


You Are My Destiny

by BoneStudio



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Attacks, Attempt at Humor, BAMF McCree, Demisexual Hanzo, Demisexual Jesse, Father-Son Relationship, Hanahaki Disease, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Sibling Bonding, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-07 10:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13432356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoneStudio/pseuds/BoneStudio
Summary: Hanahaki Disease is where the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from a one-sided love. It can be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim’s romantic feelings for their love also disappear.That is the textbook definition of Hanahaki Disease and while Jesse McCree knows it’s dangerous to tempt fate, he’s always believed in controlling his own destiny. Hanzo Shimada is a man seeking retribution for his past mistakes and Jesse knows that feeling all too well. As the days go by, his love for the archer grows and even if it’s one-sided, he knows that what Hanzo needs isn’t a lover but a kindred spirit. He’ll be there for him for as long as his body will give him and make his love known through actions — not words.After all, Hanzo is his destiny and he’ll make it clear how far he’ll go to secure their future.





	1. Voice of Reason

When Genji mentioned that he would be going after his brother, the tension in the room was thick enough to be cut with a knife. Jesse sat in an armchair at the conference table watching as Angela tried to argue against bringing the elder Shimada into their merry band. Her reasons all circled around one focal point; the fight between the two brothers which almost proved fatal for their beloved cyborg ninja.

“What if he tries to hurt you again,” Lena interjected. “We can’t give him a second shot like that.”

The members currently at the table were Angela Ziegler, Lena Oxton, Jesse McCree, Genji Shimada, Winston, and Zenyatta. It was a small group gathered up so far but the others were either in route or busy in other areas of the base. However, from where he was sitting, this conversation was one that could either make or break the recalled Overwatch.

He watched as Genji removed his visor, setting it on the table as his vents opened and closed in quick successions. His irritation was growing and the amount of consoling he had to do was taking a toll on him.

“My brother was under constant stress with the elders looking down on him, if he hadn’t done what he did, we both would have died.”

“That still doesn’t excuse the fact that he almost murdered you and left you for dead,” Angela said.

“He didn’t have a choice.”

“Everyone has a choice.”

Zenyatta lingered at his side, floating in mid-air and watching as they alternated from all sides of the table. Eventually, he turned his head in Jesse’s direction and the cowboy gave a slight shake of his head. The omnic seemed to understand and nodded, his shoulders lowering as if he was sighing or resigning himself to what would come next.

“Actually,” Jesse interjected. “Everyone doesn’t.”

The noise around the table silenced once the cowboy spoke up and he knew that he threw himself into the deep end. However, he didn’t shy away when Angela’s gaze fell on him. Her mouth was open in surprise, her gaze soon turning into one of disbelief.

“Jesse, you can’t be agreeing with this.”

“But I am.”

Her lips pinched together, eyebrows furrowing and a stare down commenced between the two. Angela Ziegler could be a formidable foe despite her callsign but Jesse McCree wouldn’t back down to anyone. He stared her down evenly, reclining in his chair with his hands folded on his lap and hat slightly askew.

“Now listen,” he drawled. “We’ve all done some pretty fucked up shit. Me and Genji included.”

Genji perked up at that and gave a solemn nod when his eyes met Jesse’s. They both remembered their days in Blackwatch. All of the bodies they piled up and the people who didn’t make it back from every mission.

“While ya’ll are up here trying to paint Genji as the patron saint, remember he was part of that family as well.”

Jesse shifted in his chair, sitting up and fixing his hat, keeping a leveled stare with everyone at the table. Angela seemed skeptical and Lena’s gaze flicked from everyone in the room as fast as he could blink. Winston looked down to the floor and Genji gave Jesse a firm nod to continue.

And so he did.

“He’s just as fucked up as his brother, the only difference is he had us and Mister Zenyatta over here to pull him out before he got too deep.”

Everyone remembered Genji when he first arrived in Overwatch. Consumed by an unbridled rage that was released on anyone in his vicinity.

“We knew what Genji was. Us, Gabe, Jack, Ana, we all did.”

The others aside from Zenyatta flinched at the mention of the former strike commander, famous sniper, and Blackwatch commander. Jesse knew it was a low blow and how much they loved them. But it was a necessary evil to drive the point home. Genji was the first to recover and nodded to Jesse again.

And so he did.

“And we know his brother was cooped up with them..” He snapped his fingers and gestured to Genji. “What you call ‘em Genji?"

“The Clan Elders,” Genji told him.

“Right, the elders.” Jesse gave him a curt nod in thanks. “If they had a hold over ‘im since he was young then damn it, no wonder he did what he did.”

“That doesn’t make it right,” Lena said.

Her voice was soft. Breaking and Jesse knew that she was reaching her limit. Honestly, he hated seeing the usually chippy Brit so despondent but it needed to be heard. Because all he saw around the table were people pointing fingers and he’d had enough.

“No the hell it doesn’t,” Jesse agreed and his gaze shifted to the gaunt faces around the table. “But what about us?”

No one responded. He didn’t expect them to because just as quick as the words left his mouth, it seemed like flashbacks of past endeavors coursed through their minds. Angela looked away and hugged herself tightly, Lena looking down at her hands and Winston turning his gaze away. Genji nodded and briefly shut his eyes, lips in a thin line. Even Zenyatta bowed his head and pressed his fingertips together.

“I fuckin’ killed people since I was fifteen years old and I’m god damn near forty,” Jesse said. “You think my hands are clean?” He looked around the room practically daring anyone to argue with him at this point. No one did.  “Was running with a gang,” he admitted with an incline to his missing arm. “Killed good men and bad, and yeah he might’ve fucked up his brother,” Jesse paused and looked to Genji. “Mind my language but he didn’t _have_ a choice.”

Genji raised his hand to wave off the apology.

“And I’m sure if Genji’s intel is right, he’s been running around trying to find a way to live with what he’s done. Just like we are.”

Another wave of silence passed.

“If the man is lookin’ for redemption and he wants to come here to help us fight the good fight,” Jesse looked pointedly at Genji. The cyborg ninja met his eyes and thankfulness was visible in his gaze. The cowboy felt a smile tug at his lips but forced it away, giving a curt nod instead. “Then I say bring ‘im on.”

With that, Jesse stood up and his chair rolled back, wheels screeching against the floors. He turned with a flourish of his serape and made his way to the doors. Saying all he needed to say, he wanted to go and take a smoke. Anything to ease the tension in his limbs and the disgust from what he’d witnessed prior to his intervention.

Before he left the room, he heard Genji say,  “Winston, do I have your support?”

He didn’t stick around for the answer. Finding himself on the rooftop with his legs dangling over the edge, staring at the sun as it kissed the horizon. A slow drag filled his lungs with smoke that he slowly exhaled through his nose. Nicotine wasn’t good for him but it filled him with a sense of calm that he knew he couldn’t kick.

“Somebody had to start talkin’ sense in the room,” he said.

He’d been around Genji long enough to know the ninja’s presence. Now was no different even after the time they spent apart. The cyborg huffed, the sound no longer muffled by his visor as he took a seat next to Jesse. His legs dangled over the side as well but they weren’t swinging as he normally did.

“Jesse… I can’t thank you enough for what you said,” Genji replied. “Out of everyone, after everything I told you, I thought you would hate my brother and the idea of finding him the most.”

Another draw of the cigar was taken and Jesse chuckled as the smoke came out. “Shows we need to spend more time together, Shimada.”

Genji chuckled, “You are right.”

“You be safe out there, Genji,” Jesse glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

A metal hand settled on Jesse’s shoulder with a firm reply.

“I will.”


	2. Stand Your Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions thicken, ground is stood, and a call sparks something new.

The three months that followed weren’t exactly the warmest. Conflict on whether or not Hanzo Shimada should join spread through their ranks like wildfire forcing everyone to take a side. Jesse hated the air of indignation when Angela entered the room, glaring at him pointedly after noticing the lack of Genji’s voice in the morning rush. He chose to meet it head on and sipped his coffee while keeping her gaze.

Most mornings, Zenyatta would come over to talk to him about the weather or any other small topics that came up. If anyone told Jesse McCree a few years ago that he’d be conversing with an omnic over country music at 8AM, he’d have rolled his eyes. Now it seemed like commonplace considering that Zenyatta was about one of the first people who saw his views on the matter.

Reinhardt was the second. The friendly giant believing that they needed to come together rather than divide themselves. He did his best to assuage Angela’s surly demeanor with large smiles and boisterous laughter but it did little in the face of uncertainty. Fareeha had arrived at the base a day or so ago and immediately took notice of the lingering tension between Overwatch’s angelic doctor and rough cowboy.

“What’d you do to make her angry this time,” Fareeha asked. “Break your arm while wrestling with Reinhardt?”

The two of them were sitting on either side of a worn old table from the previous Overwatch. It had dents and nicks in it along with various stains that wouldn’t come out no matter how hard you scrubbed. However, it was suitable for a card game and a few beers.

“Sided with Genji on a personal matter,” Jesse replied as he glanced up from his hand.

“Personal matter?”

Jesse nodded with a soft hum and pulled a card out, setting it down. “Agreed with him bringing his brother to meet the family.”

“You mean the brother that nearly killed him,” Fareeha deadpanned.

Jesse sighed and rubbed his flesh hand along the side of his face. He forgot that when Genji came around, Fareeha was only a child and thus her opinion on the matter might’ve been a lot more touchy. Especially after the loss of her mother. Nonetheless, he looked her squarely in the eyes, pulled out another card and set it down with a “Yup”, making sure to pop the ‘p’.

She stared at him long and hard searching his face for any sign of doubt or resignation on the matter. There was none. Jesse wasn’t sure about what kind of man Hanzo Shimada had been and what he was now but he stood fast to his belief that everyone deserves a second chance.

When he didn’t budge or blink at her intense gaze, she sighed and folded. Literally and figuratively.

“What are we even playing, Jesse?” She asked.

“I dunno.”

They looked from the cards to each other and laughed. Despite everything, the tension and the uncertainty of what ame next, it was nice to see one another. After they cleaned everything up and changed into comfortable clothes for the night, they gathered some of the other agents and retired to the living area for a movie night.

Training and such could come later.

For right now, it was nice to remember that everyone was alive and well.

Angela glanced in his direction when she entered the room still wearing her lab coat and her hair up in a ponytail. Without his hat and his serape, he had little to hide behind but he refused to shrink away from the medic’s glare. She looked him up and down a few times, only budging to shuffle out of the way as Reinhardt carted in another bowl of popcorn to set between himself and Torbjorn.

Jesse looked away and swirled his beer around in his hand as he watched the two argue about what movie to see. Fareeha interjected a few times only to fall into the discussions with gusto. Winston busied himself with a jar of peanut butter and Lena leaned against him on the other sofa, taking it from him to open it herself and handing it back. A fond smile tugged Jesse’s lips upwards as he took a swig of his beer.

It really was like old times.

Even the familiar dip in the couch when Angela sat next to him, her legs crossed and her gaze averted. He glanced in her direction and noticed her looking back. It wasn’t an apology or an admission of wrongness but he’d take what he could get from her.

Movie night continued with a bit of a delay after Torbjorn nearly started a food fight when he flung a few kernels at Reinhardt. Everyone settled down, they watched a few movies from the early twenty-first century and exchange commentary on how bad certain parts were and how far the industry had come. Jesse left the conversation after mentions of Westerns being more comedy than action which most of the other members begrudgingly agreed on in hopes he wouldn’t break out his collection.

Jokes on them, he was going to do it anyway when all of their little team was assembled.

He settled down on the couch and relaxed his legs, ready to nod off whenever sleep would come. But a gentle buzzing brought him back to the realm of the living and he fished around in his sweatpants’ pocket for his communicator. Genji’s name reflected on the interface and he hauled himself off the couch, ignoring Angela’s curious glance and heading out the room to take the call.

“Thought we were keepin’ radio silence Genj,” Jesse teased. “You missed hearin lil ol’ me that much?”

“By god, you do sound like a cowboy.”

The voice on the other end didn’t sound a lick like Genji’s. It had an accent, each word rolling to the other smooth as honey. Deep and rich with a twinge of confusion and pride laced into the tone. Nothing like Genji’s mischievous tone of speaking.

“Now who’s this?”

Jesse leaned against a wall with one hand settled on his hip and the other pressing the communicator to his ear.

“I believe it is customary to introduce yourself before asking another’s name.”

The tone was clipped and a little snippy but there was a hint of mischief behind it. Whoever this was, they were surely associated with Genji, and Jesse had a small idea on who it might be.

“Yeah, and I think it’s also _customary_ to not use someone’s cell without their permission.”

Silence followed on the other end and the corner of Jesse’s mouth quirked upwards in a half-smirk.

“I was given permission from Genji.”

The stranger’s hesitance and carefully worded reply reminded Jesse of a scolded child. He resisted the urge to chuckle, remembering one of Genji’s stories that his brother didn’t like to be laughed at. Schooling his expression and trying to make his voice neutral, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. At least Genji found his mark but that didn't explain why his brother was calling _him_ of all people.

“Were you now, stranger?”

“Yes.”

Jesse hummed softly and switched from one foot to the other.

“And where is Genji?”

There was a slight pause and Jesse could hear the gentle hiss of Genji’s vents as they opened and closed. There was also the sound of birds and traffic. They must’ve been in a city somewhere.

“Meditating, it’s rather early here.”

“Early, huh?”

He glanced towards the nearest clock. It was pretty late in Gibraltar and if it was morning, that meant they had to be somewhere east probably.

“Well, did Genji tell you who I was stranger?”

“A friend,” the man said. “One who stood up for him when he needed it.”

Jesse couldn’t help but snort at that. “That what he said, huh?” Leave it to Genji to make him out to be something more than what he was. “And what do you think of me, stranger?”

The silence lingered this time and if it wasn’t for the tweeting of birds and the hissing of Genji’s vents, he would’ve thought the call had ended.

“You sound like a caricature.”

Jesse bit his lower lip and resisted the urge to chuckle through a sharp intake of breath might’ve given him away.

“Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“You also seem aware of who I am.”

Caught, Jesse fought to keep his voice neutral and his expression schooled even though the stranger couldn’t see him. It wouldn’t do him any good to spook the man or develop any wanton worries.

“Makes you say that?”

“You haven’t ended the call.”

“Mm, well a fine lady taught me not to hang up on somebody,” He waited for a second to draw out the suspense. “Even if they don’t do what _customary_.”

He waited for a second and then another to gauge the stranger’s reaction. A sharp intake of breath along with a muffled noise made him realize that the person on the other side was laughing. Jesse grinned a little, pressing the communicator closer to his ear.

“I believe I deserved that.”

“You and me both, partner.”

As much fun as it was for him to try and make the estranged brother of his best friend smile, there were far more pressing matters to attend to. He sighed and closed his eyes as the question floated in the space between them.

“You thinkin’ about joinin’?”

The elder Shimada said nothing for a while. Jesse opened his eyes and stared at the wall in front of him. When he was young, he hated the waiting game but it was something he’d grown accustomed to his “old age”. Fifty ticks passed before the voice came back from the other side.

“That choice is.. difficult.”

Just what he expected but before he could open his mouth to say something, the stranger spoke.

“Could I ask you a question first.”

Surprised, Jesse nodded despite knowing he couldn’t see it. “Go ahead.”

“Why did you argue in my defense?”

It shouldn’t have been so disturbing. The wonderment in the other man’s voice, the sheer disbelief that someone had stood up for him. But with the things he’d done and the fact that everyone in the base knew, Jesse could understand.

“I don’t know your situation exactly, only what Genji told us, but I think everyone deserves a second chance.”

A pause followed before he spoke.

“Even me.”

“Even you.”

Another one followed.

“Despite what I’ve done.”

“Yes sir.”

Then another followed, another concealed laugh, this one coming out like a man who was torn between crying and laughing.

“You are either very foolish or very kind.”

His voice reminded Jesse of someone who was uncertain of another’s intentions but _wanting_ to believe. That small spark of hope being what drew a smile onto the cowboy’s face.

“Why not both?”

“Are you an actual cowboy,” he asked. “You truly sound like one.”

Jesse laughed and shook his head.  “Hey now, you said one question.”

“Apologies,” the stranger replied without truly sounding apologetic at all.

Jesse rolled his eyes and shifted again from one foot to the other, letting his hand rest loosely by his side. He hated to bring up the serious matters especially when he’d gotten the other to laugh and _hopefully_ smile. But it was necessary and he wasn’t one to shy away from the necessities.

“Everyone here is gonna be on different sides when it comes to you showin’ up, y’know.”

“I am aware,” the stranger sighed. “I do not wish to make Genji into a mediator when our relationship is still…”

His voice trailed off but Jesse didn’t need him to finish. Genji’s nervousness leading up to his departure was enough indication that the brothers had something to talk about. Actually, they had more than a few things to talk about but at least they were taking the first step forward.

“Yeah, I get ya. But you don’t have to worry. Genji ain’t the only one lookin’ out for ya,” Jesse assured him. “The name’s Jesse McCree.”

“Hanzo Shimada.”

Jesse smiled a little and bobbed his head. Raising one hand to rub at his eyes, he yawned. “Well, Mister Shimada, lil ol’ me is gettin’ tired. Make sure to give Genji a pat on the back for findin’ ya and tell him to hurry on back to the base.”

“Hanzo,” the stranger said.

“Huh?”

“Mister Shimada or Shimada-san, was my father.”

Jesse whistled. “First name basis already ain’t that a trip, well it’s Jesse to you then, Hanzo.”

“Very well, Jesse.”

He didn’t expect him to say his name so quickly. And with his name and that voice, Jesse’s mind was almost wiped out. He was even starting to debate whether or not he wanted to go to bed so soon. Did he really need that much sleep?

Another yawn permeated the silence between them affirming that he did.

“See ya later.”

“Goodnight, Jesse.”

The call ended and Jesse looked at the communicator before stuffing it into his pocket, trying to fight down the little smile and the light flutter in his chest. He poked his head back into the living area.

“Hey ya’ll, I’ma head on to bed. You guys take it easy.”

A chorus of “good night” followed him on the way to his room as the fluttering feeling persisted. By the time his head hit the pillow, he was off into a sweet dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had an hour drive and thought about this there and back. Wanted to get it up before the feeling left.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who bookmarked, subscribed, commented and kudo'd so far.
> 
> Keep those coming, it really inspires me to keep going knowing that people are reading and interested. 
> 
> See you guys in the next update.


	3. Talk To Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A talk is given that is long overdue, curiosity is sparked, and suspense reigns supreme.

And what a good night it was. Without nightmares to wake him in the early hours with gasping breaths and frustrated growls, he was able to sleep and become well-acquainted with a bed that would hopefully see much use. Alas, all good things don’t last long for Jesse McCree when a loud rapping at his door woke him up. He tried to block out the noise with his pillow and pray that whoever was doing this would just go away. However, god didn’t take kindly to outlaws and this might’ve been his punishment for all the wrong he’d done.

Begrudgingly clawing his way out of bed, Jesse slapped his hat on his head and trudged to the door. “And to what do I owe this early as fuck greeting?” He asked as the door slid open. 

“We need to talk.”

Most men were afraid to speak profanities in front of Angela Ziegler. Jesse wasn’t most men. Normally he’d try to give some of his hospitality and charm but the look on her face wasn’t of a lady who would take ‘no’ for an answer. 

Her hair was in a loose ponytail that was slowly coming undone, stray hairs falling to frame her face. Blue eyes were narrowed into slits as she glared up at the lumbering cowboy. Light bags formed underneath her eyes, the tell-tale sign of a night without sleep. Her lips pinched together, arms crossed and foot tapping against the linoleum floors. Admittedly unicorn slippers shouldn’t have been so intimidating but on an angel of vengeance, it was.

Jesse knew he should’ve been afraid. Very afraid of the vision in front of him. However, he was a man woken up at five o’clock and hell-bent on finding his way back to his sheets. 

Even if it meant going toe to toe with an angel. 

_ No wonder God doesn’t talk to me. _

“Obviously,” He said with a sigh. “But we can’t talk at a time that isn’t ass o’clock?”

She rolled her eyes and huffed. “It’s five a.m. Jesse.” 

Leaning back from the entryway, he glanced at the digital clock sitting on top of the nearby table. Sure enough the numbers 0500 flashed back at him like a mocking reminder of the sleep he was missing out on. He sighed and rubbed his hand along the side of his face. Knowing her, he wouldn’t get a moments peace until she said what she needed to say. The good doctor always had a way of being so damn persistent in that regard. Good for a stubborn soldier unwilling to receive treatment, bad for a tired soldier who just wanted to sleep.

“You owe me two cups of coffee,” Jesse bargained. Then he raised a finger as she opened her mouth, “And you can’t complain when I smoke.”

Her lips pinched together and he could practically see the gears turning in her head. Good, she knew that this wasn’t going to be easy. Hell, he wasn’t going to make it easy. He was cranky and sleepy and if there wasn’t a meal and a drink involved then he wasn’t going to make it through this conversation. 

“Fine, but you’re only allowed to smoke one cigar.”

She tilted her head up and Jesse resisted the urge to smile. There weren’t many women in the reformed Overwatch that could look at him eye to eye. But there were plenty of them that looked as if they didn’t need the few inches to get their point across.  

“Two,” he replied.

“One,” She reasoned and held up her finger before he could retort. “And I will make you breakfast.”

Jesse smirked. “Deal.” He inclined his head towards the inside of his room, turning around and allowing her to follow him inside. “Feels like old times, huh?”

He didn’t have to turn his head to know that she was rolling her eyes at him. He’d been around Angela Ziegler long enough to know how she functioned when she was beaten. 

“Yes, arguing with you and having to barter for a conversation.” 

A small smile formed as he picked up his prosthetic arm, sitting on the bed and taking a deep breath as he connected it to the metal port. “Just admit you missed me, Ange,” He grunted when the nerves connected. His voice strained as he spoke, “Makes things a lot easier.”

Once the pain lessened, he let out a shaky sigh and rubbed his shoulder. It’d been years since he lost the limb but his body never allowed him to forget what had been. A feathery touch brought him back to reality as Angela touched his arm and gently rubbed where the metal met flesh and bone.

“I did miss you, Jesse,” She said softly.  “I just don’t understand why you’d go along with what Genji had planned.”

He sighed and held out his hand to touch hers allowing her to help him stand. 

“He really wanted this,” Jesse replied.

“And even if he did, if you disagreed with it you would’ve told him…” Angela said desperately. “But you did agree.”

He could see the confusion was tearing her apart inside. As they left the room, she wrapped her arms around herself and gently rubbed her biceps. In the dim lighting, her hair was much lighter and her skin greyer. She was concerned and it was tearing her apart. Part of him hated that he was agreeing to something like this with how much it could tear their healing family apart. But right was right and wrong was wrong. 

“I did,” he affirmed.

“Why?” Her voice was light and airy.  “Help me understand why.”

The two of them stood outside of the kitchen now and she looked up at him, searching for something in his eyes. His heart ached and the weariness of wanting to sleep and annoyance of being woken up melted away. With a tentative hand, he reached out to touch her cheek and gently brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear. 

“What else can I tell you to convince you than I already have?"

Angela looked away from him and bobbed her head in reply, going inside with Jesse following close behind. She made good on her promise and brewed the coffee before starting on his meal. 

“Tell me who you were talking to last night,” she said. 

He leaned against the counter, nursing a cup of black coffee and inhaled the fumes. “You were spying?” He asked.

“No,” she blurted out. “But I saw you pull out your communicator and leave so I assumed.” Her voice was much quieter when she spoke again. “You wouldn’t have just left movie night if it wasn’t for something important.” 

“Got me there,” Jesse replied. He sipped his coffee and debated whether or not he wanted to tell her. Though as soon as the smell of bacon wafted through the air, his mind was made up. “It was Genji’s brother.”

The skillet clattered against the stove top and Angela cursed. “You  _ spoke  _ to him?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He took another sip of his coffee.

“And?”

“Woah there,” Jesse replied with a raise of his hand. “ I don't speak and tell.”

“Jesse,” she pleaded.

“Angela,” he deadpanned.

Their eyes met and only the sound of sizzling bacon could be heard as a battle of wills commenced. Jesse raised a brow and took a long sip of his coffee once she turned away. If looks could kill, his bacon might’ve been dead as she poked and prodded it with a fork. 

“I don’t trust him,” she said.

“I’m not askin’ you to,” he emphasized, then glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “I’m askin’ you to trust Genji.”

Angela stiffened up and her shoulders hunched together. It was a low blow. He knew that but he was tired of arguing about this day in and day out. She turned away from him, searching through the cabinets for a plate to put his bacon on. But before she could put too much distance between them, he reached out and touched her shoulder. Slowly, she looked up at him and he resisted the urge to hug her.

“To trust me,” he added.  “Let him prove himself.” He chased her gaze when she looked away from him. “He can’t do that unless you give him a chance.”

Angela frowned and her eyes squeezed shut. With a muttered prayer, she spoke again. “I’ll try.” She opened her eyes and smiled. “Okay?”

“Okay,” He replied with a soft smile of his own.  “Now how about them eggs, made in bacon grease if ya don’t mind?”

“Ugh,” She pushed away from him and went to the refrigerator, pulling out the carton of eggs with a look if distaste. “Don’t you know this is unhealthy for you?”

Popping a piece of bacon in his mouth, he hummed as he chewed. “This isn’t unhealthy, Ange. This is love.”

She rolled her eyes and smacked his hand away as he reached for another piece of bacon. “There is such thing as an unhealthy relationship and that is what you have with that  _ food _ .” 

“Mm,” Jesse hummed as he watched her scramble the eggs. “Might be wrong but it tastes so right.”

Angela rolled her eyes and elbowed him, taking a few moments to make sure the eggs were cooked properly and putting them on the plate with his bacon. She passed it to him and he handed her a cup of coffee. Her gaze flicked from the cup to his face as she took it with quiet thanks. 

“C’mon, sit down with me.”

The two sat across from one another in the mess hall. It was eerily quiet with almost everyone else being asleep at this time. Rain tapped against the window pane making a rhythmic lullaby that accompanied Angela’s quiet sips and Jesse’s chewing. They lapsed into silence, the tense air between them grew thinner and thinner as the time passed by.

“This does feel like old times,” Angela said softly.

“Yeah,” Jesse agreed. “But there are some things different.”

She tilted her head and he grinned.

“Fareeha is all grown up.” He chuckled and took another bite of his bacon as he watched her ears turn bright pink. She averted her gaze, hiding behind her cup. “Oh, so you’ve noticed.” Jesse hummed and raised his cup, turning his gaze up to the ceiling.  “Well now, what intentions do you have for our dear Fareeha?”

“It’s nothing like that!”

Angela’s cheeks were bright pink and her lips trembled as a smile threatened to form. Jesse grinned.

“Sure it isn’t.”

She rolled her eyes and took another sip, visibly trying to rub the heat from her skin. Jesse focused on his breakfast and draining the last bit of his coffee.

“Besides, love is a bit of a touchy subject in our line of work.”

He glanced up at her. Her eyes were clouded, arms folded over her chest and cup abandoned as she looked out the window. Or at least it looked like she was staring out the window. But Jesse knew that stare; one of a long look into the past.

“Any feelings that could form might result in dire circumstances and our team is still so fragile.”

Jesse nodded slowly and raised his cup in response. “Y’know, if you’re gonna try and deceive me, you could’ve started off with a ‘I’m busy’.” He sipped down his coffee noisly and then lowered the cup as she wearily glared in his direction. “We both know how relationships worked out for the past Overwatch but we’re not there, and we’re not them.”

Angela deflated and sighed, placing one of her hands on the table in the space between the two of them. He returned the gesture, holding her hand in his flesh one and giving it a light squeeze.

“This time, we’ll look out for each other.”

She looked up at him, her eyes tired and voice appreciative, “I hope you’re right.”

They stayed like that for a minute with only the rain to fill the silence. 

“And if you’re worried about unrequited feelings, remember she had a crush on you ever since you set her straight after we rappelled down the side of the Watchpoint.”

Angela snorted with laughter, her free hand covering her mouth after she did but her shoulders shook. 

“For the life of me, I can’t understand why you’d take a child to do such a dangerously stupid thing.”

Jesse shrugged. “It’s me. I’m not always the best role model.”

“Obviously.”

He stuck his tongue out at her and she laughed again. It felt like they were young again even if it was for a few seconds. Just two kids wanting to do something right for once in their lives. And then in an instant, they were old souls with too many wounds and time to heal. 

Angela squeezed his hand. “I’ve always hated fighting with you, Jesse.”

“You too,” He admitted. “Have you ever gotten patched up by an angry medic?”

She frowned and squeezed his hand. “I wouldn’t let my anger interfere with my work.” Then she paused, seemingly thinking over past experiences, and sighed. “Much.”

Jesse rolled his eyes and decided to leave it at that. He pushed his plate to the side and focused on finishing off his coffee.

“Is he planning to join?”

He had to give her credit for almost making him choke on his drink. Glancing up at her, he nodded and said, “He wasn’t sure. I made sure to tell him that the people here might be a little wary of him.”

She scoffed. “A little is an understatement.”

“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure he knows better.” Jesse gave her a warning glance. 

The cup blocked his view of the medic but once he lowered it, he noticed she was staring at him. Her gaze sweeped up and then down in quick intervals with the speed of a combat medic assessing for wounds. 

“What?”

She smiled a little. “You’ve really grown.”

“Have I?” He asked.

“The Jesse McCree I once knew would’ve been spouting off obscenities and glaring him down the minute he got here.”

He snorted and set down his empty cup. “Yeah well, the me from Blackwatch and the me now are two different men in some ways.” His fingers drummed against the table and he could feel her eyes on him waiting for him to explain himself further. The time he spent away from the previous Overwatch and the bounty on his head were stories that he’d tell some day. But today wasn’t that day.  “Don’t worry. Your cowboy is still in here.”

“I’m glad,” she said with another tight squeeze of their hands.

He raised his hand to tip his hat then let go of her hand. “Alright,” he said as he gathered his dishes. “I’m gonna head back to bed.”

“Sleeping on a full stomach isn’t good for you.”

“Waking me up at the ass crack of dawn isn’t either,” he called over his shoulder. “Good talking to you, Ange.”

Her voice was a whisper on the wind behind him as the door closed. “You too, Jesse.”

After tossing his dishes in the sink, giving them a quick scrub and soak, he set them on the rack and headed back to his room. The reunion between himself and his bed was nigh and there was nothing in the world that could keep him from laying down. But he’d spoken too soon. 

Just as the door closed behind him, his communicator vibrated on the bedside table. He groaned and rubbed his hands down his face. Trudging over with heavy footsteps, he picked it up and saw Genji’s name on the interface, answering after a quick prayer. 

“Genj, that you?”

It was silence for a moment and alarm rang through Jesse’s head. The silence wasn’t good. 

“What did you say to my brother?”

Genji’s voice was stern and tense. Jesse frowned and wracked his brain, slowly remembering the conversation from the day before.

“Why, what happened?”

It wasn’t the answer that Genji wanted. He knew that for sure after the cyborg ninja audibly sighed. 

“He’s coming.”

Jesse’s eyes widened and his prosthetic hand nestled in his hair, snagging onto a few locks after he tried to tug it free. The pain made him wince but that meant this was real.

“For real?”

“Yes,” Genji said breathlessly. “He’s decided to join us. I… Jesse, I don’t know how to thank you. It feels like I’m in your debt more often than not lately. It’s a bit strange.”

Ah, that made sense on why he was so tense. It’d taken him three months to find Hanzo and maybe even three months to try and convince him to join.  Yet after one night of talking to Jesse… 

_ Gabe, if you could see this. _

“Woah there, no debt.” He said. “Did he pass on my message?”

“Yes, and we’ll be there within a few hours.”

Jesse turned around and looked at the clock. It was 0530, he’d have some time for some shut eye before they got there. Rubbing the back of his neck, he said, “Good,  ah… I talked to him about how things might be over here.”

“He mentioned it a bit.”

“Glad you two are on speaking terms.”

Genji sighed and Jesse felt for him. “Barely, but it is just a relief to have him here.”

“Yeah well,” He chuckled mirthlessly. “We’re gonna have our work cut out for us.”

“Heroes never rest,” Genji joked.

“Obviously,” Jesse deadpanned. “Now can I get some sleep?”

“Oh wait, he wanted to talk to you.”

The cowboy quietly groaned and nearly slammed himself face first on his bed. It was right there. So close and yet so far away. 

_ What the hell, I already gave one talk today. _

“Alright, alright.”

There was a bit of a scuffle on the other end. He could hear something that sounded like crashing waves and was that a seagull? 

_ Where the hell are they? _

“Hello?”

Hanzo’s voice caught him off guard. Straightening up out of instinct, Jesse glanced around his room to see if anyone noticed before answering. 

“Hey there, sunshine.”

“Sunshine?”

Jesse cursed and shook his head despite him not being able to see it. “Ah, sorry. Nicknames are sorta m’ thing.” He rubbed his hand along the side of his face, the urge for sleep creeping up again. Where’s the fire?”

“Fire?”

The confusion in his tone made the cowboy audibly groan as he pressed his palm against his face. It momentarily muffled his curses and cries for sleep. 

“There’s no fire,” Hanzo said innocently. 

“No, no. That’s a…” Jesse paused and picked apart the man’s previous statement. Slowly, it dawned on him and he could hear Genji’s laughter in the background. “Wait, you’re messin’ with me aren’t ya?”

Without a trace of guilt, he responded. “Yes, I am.” Then his tone became serious and almost grave. “I wanted to ask a favor from you.”

“First name basis and now askin’ for favors, what next?” Jesse took a seat on his bed and leaned forward, resting his elbow against his knee.  “Are we gonna be braiding eachother’s hair?”

On the other side, he heard a flurry of Japanese far too fast for his sleep-addled mind to translate. 

“From what Genji tells me, your hair may not be long enough for multiple braids.”

Jesse chuckled then sighed. “And here I thought you didn’t have a sense of humor, Shimada.”

“Hanzo…” He reminded. “And you were mistaken.”

A small smile tugged at Jesse’s lips and the fluttering feeling returned. “Sorry, Hanzo.” A pleased hum came from the other side and he resisted the urge to laugh. “Lil sleepy, got woken up at the ass crack of dawn.”

“By my time, it should be five a.m.”

“The  _ ass crack  _ of dawn,” Jesse emphasized.

“Understood, I will let you sleep.”

“Wait,” Jesse interjected. “What was it that ya needed?”

There was a brief silence on the other side and Jesse pressed the communicator to his ear. Aside from the sounds of nature and Genji’s vents and the occasional passerby, he couldn’t hear Hanzo at all. 

_ What could he possibly want from me? _

He waited a moment longer and then heard the other man speak.

“I believe it will be better if I asked you in person.” Jesse stiffened up at the determination in his tone. Like a man out for Jesse’s own heart, he effectively ended the call. “Until then, Jesse.”

The communicator was blank when it hit the bed next to his head. He laid back with his arms splayed out and staring at the ceiling, confusion written over his features as he replayed the conversation again and again. In person. Until then. A few hours. Jesse. He groaned and grabbed his pillow, yelling into it. 

“Why’d ya have to go and tell me that, Hanzo?” He pressed his pillow against his face. “Now I can’t sleep!”


	4. First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new person has arrived, a talk is had, and something ominous this way comes.

Three loud knocks pulled Jesse back into the waking world against his will. His bones ached from laying in an uncomfortable position and popped as he stretched out. Sunlight filtered from windows blinding him as he blearily opened his eyes, pressing the heel of his flesh hand against the bridge of his nose. A voice in the back of his mind told him to just lay there and try to block out everything else. The person at the door would eventually grow bored and leave him be, allowing him a few minutes of peace before Athena eventually woke him up with a blaring alarm. Deluded by ideas of sleep, Jesse relaxed and turned over to bury his face against the nearest pillow, content to fall back into darkness’ sweet embrace.

Fifty seconds passed before the knocks repeated and he muffled a loud groan with his pillow. Hands curling into fists, Jesse slammed them against the mattress and cursed.

“Alright, alright,” he called out to the person at the door and the gods who were surely laughing at him. “I’m comin’, hold your goddamn horses!”

Reluctantly abandoning his bed and trudging over to the door, Jesse hoped whoever was on the other side had said their prayers. Jesse glared daggers straight at the wall once the door opened until someone cleared their throat, making him look a little lower. An ornery cowboy wasn’t a pleasant one so early in the morning. And if the way he practically shoved the door open wasn’t an indication of his mood then the wide-eyed stare of the man in front of him was.

“I was hoping that this was a good time…” the stranger began, his words trailing off as he struggled to keep his tone even. “Considering it isn’t the ass crack of dawn, as you put it.”

Jesse’s initial reaction was to say something snarky in return but the gears in his head were finally turning. Liberated from sleep, he squinted his eyes and leaned closer to stare at the stranger eye to eye. Dark hair pulled up in a ponytail with a golden ribbon, wide dark eyes returning Jesse’s gaze with amusement, lips twitching upwards into a smirk. Then Jesse’s gaze dipped lower and he raised a brow.

What kind of man walked around with his left pec hanging out?

“Eyes up, cowboy.”

Lazily dragging his gaze up the expanse of his arm, taking in the brilliant shades of blue and yellow in his tattoo, his physique and dark eyes that were suddenly a lot closer now. Jesse nearly jumped back but years of standing up to men who were three times his size made him halt the reflex, simply straightening his back and thickening his accent as he spoke.

“Hanzo Shimada,” he drawled. “As I live and breathe. When’d ya get here?”

No longer hiding the smirk, Hanzo folded his arms over his chest, an action that almost had Jesse breaking eye contact. “Eleven in the morning,” he answered with a bit of venom. “It was an arduous journey, and you were not present for the arrival.”

Jesse whistled lowly and leaned back to check the time on the nearest clock. The numbers 1200 flashed back at him and he clicked his tongue. He hadn’t expected to sleep in for that long and felt the heat rise to his cheeks. Rubbing his hand on the back of his neck, he leaned against the doorway.

“Didn’ expect ya to want me there, sunshine.”

The other man shifted, placing one hand on his hip, the other scratching at his goatee as he feigned a questioning look. “I did say that I wanted to speak to you in person,” Hanzo chided, his gaze piercing as he met Jesse’s eyes. “Did I not?”

Jesse grinned and reached up to tip his hat, fingers brushing at air. Sighing, he shrugged and smiled lazily. “Well, I’m your huckleberry, darlin’.” Turning on his heel, he made his way back into the room and beckoned with a wave of his hand.

“Lemme get dressed, ya can take a seat wherever ya please.”

Jesse didn’t bother looking over his shoulder as he rummaged around in the closet for a clean shirt. In the back of his mind, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Angela screamed for him to be careful. He was allowing a dangerous man into his room and even turning his back to him without questioning his story or giving him the shovel talk. Jesse tugged his t-shirt over his head and flung it onto his bed, stepping out and pulling his arms through the sleeves of a brown buttoned down shirt.

If that voice was a person, he would’ve laughed in its face because as he turned around to grab a pair of jeans laying on the floor, he caught sight of Hanzo sitting on the edge of his bed staring intently at his serape. He rolled his eyes and climbed out of his shorts, sitting on the opposite side of the bed to pull on his pants.

“What ya got there darlin’?”

A sharp intake of breath made him snicker and he looked over his shoulder to see the elder Shimada giving him a half-hearted glare over his shoulder. The heat in his gaze would’ve been foreboding if not for the smirk playing on his lips.

“I wasn’t aware that you slept with a blanket.”

Jesse felt the jab and although it was good-naturedly, he resisted the urge to call out the other man on his lack of a proper shirt. Partly because without it there was a ridiculously nice view and it might’ve been a traditional thing, and Jesse McCree was a man of tradition.

“Not a blanket,” he replied.

“A poncho?”

He rolled his eyes and knelt down, grabbing his boots from underneath his bed, sitting down to pull them on. “It’s a serape.”

“Cowboy hat, serape, are you going to tell me that you wear..”

After his boots were pulled on, Jesse walked around the bed to Hanzo’s side and took the serape from his hands. His spurs jingled with each step and the look on Hanzo’s face was priceless. His eyes narrowed, nose scrunching up and lips pinched together as he stared at Jesse’s feet.

“Spurs on your boots,” he shut his eyes with a long-suffering sigh. “I’m surrounded by caricatures.”

Jesse snickered and looped his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans, glancing around the room for his hat. He spotted it sitting precariously on the edge of the bed and walked over to pick it up, settling it on top of his head. Eyes followed his every move and the hairs stood up on the back of his neck. Stealing a glance over his shoulder, he caught the quick movement of Hanzo’s gaze shifting from him to the window, what had once been interest melting into indifference.

“See somethin’ ya liked, Shimada?”

“ _Hanzo_ ,” the other man stressed and shot an annoyed look his way.

Jesse held his hands up in mock surrender as he meandered towards the window, leaning against the wall beside it. Hanzo followed his every movement with a scrunched nose and scowl. While that look might’ve scared most men into submission, Jesse smiled in response and gave a little shrug.

“You can’t use sleep as an excuse for not remembering, Jesse McCree,” Hanzo said with firm persistence.

Jesse let out a low whistle and shook his head, wagging a finger teasingly. “Don’t use the full name on me darlin’, might take ya as a threat.”

“As you should,” Hanzo smirked and leaned back with his arms crossed. “I assure you that I’m quite dangerous.”

Laughter was stifled in Jesse’s chest and he could’ve choked on it if he wasn’t too careful. Right before his eyes, he watched the teasing man fold in on himself as he realized the weight of his words. The light was siphoned from his eyes from dawning horror, his shoulders hunching and hands curling into fists as he lowered them to rest on his knees. His head bowed and he averted his gaze from Jesse, looking down at the floor.

“Hey,” Jesse said softly. When Hanzo didn’t reply, he knelt down to catch his gaze. “Hey now. Don’t clam up on me.”

Hesitantly, he raised a hand and touched the man’s exposed shoulder. Hanzo tensed under his hold and Jesse made sure to keep his touch featherlight to give the man an option to shrug him off. It didn’t come but Hanzo didn’t seem to relax in the slightest. Jesse’s voice softened and he gave a gentle pat to his shoulder.

“We were just messin’ around.”

Hanzo glanced up at him and Jesse felt his heart clench. There was a tickle in the back of his throat but he refused to break this moment by taking a second to cough. Keeping Hanzo’s gaze and smiling cheekily, he said, “Y’really think I’d invite someone I thought would kill me into my lil abode?”

Though he couldn’t really bring up the few times that he’d actually done it. His track record with mercenaries out for his head and the likes wasn’t very good. Of course, he managed to get out of all those scraps alive but his penchant for finding trouble often landed him in more precarious situations than he should’ve been comfortable with. This situation, in particular, was one of the more cautious ones. Hanzo looked as if he could kick his ass ten ways to Sunday and Jesse didn’t have any doubt in his mind that the other man didn’t regret his actions.

When their eyes met and Hanzo held his gaze, he snorted with laughter and shook his head.

“The longer I’m in your presence, the more I realize you are not a fool at all.”

Jesse raised his hand to tip his hat with one of his customary greetings only to be frozen in place.

“You are incredibly kind.”

His eyes widened and his heartbeat was loud enough to pound in his eardrums. Kind. A bitter taste rose in the back of his throat and the tickle in his throat became stronger. He forced it down with a hard gulp, patting Hanzo’s shoulder twice and easing away from him, tipping his hat down.

“I’m plenty’a things, but kind… now that’s subjective thinkin’.”

“You cannot change what I think,” Hanzo replied firmly.

His eyes glinted as if challenging the gunslinger to argue with him and Jesse felt his lips tug upwards into a smile hidden as he rubbed his hand along his mouth.

“You’re right when you’re right.”

“ **Visitor Hanzo Shimada, Agent Winston is requesting your presence in the Control Room for** acquisition **of Overwatch Credentials.** ”

Jesse chuckled as Hanzo shot a venomous look at the disembodied voice. Standing up, he motioned with his head towards the door and took long strides to cross the room. He could barely hear Hanzo’s foot falls but as the door slid open, Jesse saw him heading in the opposite direction from his room.

“Hey darlin’,” he called out.

Hanzo paused and looked over his shoulder.

“You said that you had a favor you wanted to ask me, right?” Jesse tipped his hat and gave a mock salute. “Come find me after your business is done.”

Hanzo’s eyebrows knitted together and his jaw tightened. Giving a curt nod, he turned away and continued his trek down the hall and out of sight. Jesse rubbed the column of his throat and coughed into a fist trying to clear the tickle as much as he could. As it persisted, he grumbled and turned around hearing a soft humming behind him.

Zenyatta raised in his hand in greeting as he floated down the hall. Hands settled on his knees, the omnic came to a stop near the cowboy. “Good afternoon, Agent McCree. Are you not feeling well?”

Jesse chuckled and shook his head. “Just a lil cough, don’t you go worryin’ about lil ol’ me.”

The last thing he wanted was starting a full-blown epidemic. With Hanzo on base, tensions were sure to be high and who knew how merciful a mood their medic would be in. A hand settled on his shoulder knocking him out of his reverie and he glanced towards Zenyatta.

“If you are not too busy, would you mind taking a walk with me?”

Jesse raised a brow and nodded slowly. There was something different in the omnic’s voice, deeper and _knowing_.

“Any specific reason?”

“I believe we need to talk.”


	5. Eye to Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zenyatta intervenes, Jesse grieves, Angela tries to see and Hanzo wants to believe.
> 
> Nothing is what it seems.

The jingling of Jesse’s spurs accompanied by Zenyatta’s humming orbs filled the silence between them. From Jesse’s room, they walked to a grassy courtyard within the inner reaches of the Watchpoint. Flowers bloomed and flourished under the direct sunlight though he had a hunch that most of the credit went to the Bastion unit. Upon noticing the pair, Bastion turned away from the flower bed it was watering and beeped excitedly.

“Greetings to you as well,” Zenyatta responded with a bow of his head.

Jesse tipped his hat and smiled, “Mornin’ t’ ya,” then with a low whistle, he surveyed the flowers appreciatively. “Mighty fine garden y’got here, Bastion.”

The omnic beeped and booped then reached down to pluck two flowers from the bed. It walked towards them and extended the flowers at an arm's length; Ganymede tweeting and flying down to perch on Bastion’s outstretched hand. Jesse didn’t speak the omnic’s language in the slightest but he could infer what Bastion wanted. With a little smile, he took one of the flowers and handed the other to Zenyatta. While the two of them talked over the flower’s origins and the combinations in Bastion’s garden, Jesse held the flower carefully in his palm.

He was never a fan of flowers. They were small, fragile, easily trampled on and the world he lived in made those traits dangerous. Lowering his head and taking a few steps back, he sat down on the paved walkway twirling the stem in his hand. Its cream pink petals brushed against his fingertips with every rotation feeling soft and smooth like silk. A sharp contrast to the rough calloused hands —- no, his hand.

A bitter chuckle shook his shoulders and he shifted with an exaggerated groan as Zenyatta floated over to sit beside him.

“What did you two talk about?”

“Flowers and their meanings,” Zenyatta said. “Would you like to know?”

Jesse knew that Zenyatta didn’t need him to talk. If the omnic’s patience with Genji was any indication, he could carry a conversation effortlessly but only for a listening ear. It was ridiculous, Jesse thought. When did he become the person that everyone wanted to talk to?

The voice of reason.

The neutral party.

Absently, he thought back to Angela’s words of how he’d grown and felt bitterness. It didn’t feel like he grew at all. He couldn’t see what she saw.

_You are incredibly kind._

Jesse bit the inside of his cheek to drown out his thoughts; a dull pain registering as he tried to focus on Zenyatta. The monk held his hand out to Jesse and in his palm laid a flower with layers of petals ranging from white to yellow. A voice in the back of his mind told him how ridiculous this was. He could’ve been polishing his gun, eating a hearty meal, or enjoying his one lecture-free cigar but instead of those things he was learning about flowers.

“Zinnia,” said Zenyatta. “It has several meanings such as endurance and daily remembrance.”

The cowboy grunted and pinched the flower in his own palm between the index and thumb of his prosthetic hand. He gave it a little twirl then set it in Zenyatta’s open palm.

“You do not want it?”

Looking up to make sure that Bastion was out of earshot, Jesse shook his head.

“Flowers ain’t really m’ thing,” he admitted.

Zenyatta hummed thoughtfully and gently brushed his fingers over the pink flower’s petals. Jesse watched with little interest towards the flowers, more so entranced by the tenderness in which Zenyatta held them. He could imagine the monk saying something along the lines of all life being precious. That he would do the same for any living being, may they be sentient or otherwise.

_You are incredibly kind._

The words reverberate in his mind and he tears his gaze away from Zenyatta’s hand listening to him as he speaks.

“A peony,” Zenyatta explains. “It has many meanings just like the zinnia but I believe the one best attributed to you is shame.”

Jesse’s heart clenched and the dull throb in his mouth returned in full force as he stifled a rude remark with a sharp bite to the inside of his cheek. Shame was a feeling he knew well even if others thought he had none left to spare.

_You’ve really grown._

The corners of his mouth dipped as a voice that sounded like Angela’s whispered in his ears. If Zenyatta noticed the change in his mood, he didn’t say anything and allowed the words to sink into the silence between them.

“You have been very busy since before Genji’s departure,” Zenyatta continues and the twinge of sympathy in his synthetic tone strokes the fire in Jesse’s stomach. He keeps his gaze straight ahead where Bastion is planting flowers, the ones already in bloom swaying with the occasional breeze. “And it seems as though your work is still not done.”

Jesse huffs and shakes his head, “Keepin’ peace is what heroes do, isn’ it?”

“Yes,” Zenyatta agreed. “It is a pity.”

Eyebrows knitted together and knee propped up, Jesse leaned forward keeping the omnic in his peripherals. Zenyatta didn’t look in his direction but he also didn’t move his hand or close his fingers around the flowers.

“Who will save the hero when they need it?”

There was something in Zenyatta’s tone that tugged at Jesse’s nerves. His fingers twitched and curled into a fist though he willed himself not to look at the omnic. Now, Jesse was staring past Bastion and the garden, even further than the Watchpoint or the expanse of ocean. The past was laid out in front of him and Zenyatta’s voice was a dull echo.

Ghosts touched his shoulders and memories of warmth, love, and kindness drowned out the sound. Jesse clenched his fists as Hanzo and Angela’s voices joined the proverbial storm brewing in his mind.

“Just what are you drivin’ at,” he said to Zenyata and the ghosts clinging to his psyche.

Zenyatta’s voice softened with something akin to pity. “When you spoke on Hanzo’s behalf, the feelings behind your words came from somewhere.” Jesse’s jaw clenched and the nails of his flesh hand dug into his palm.

“You gathered all that from one tongue lashin’,” he chuckled mirthlessly. “Nothin’ gets past those photoreceptors of yours, now does it.”

_You are very kind._

_You’ve grown._

The omnic continued on as if he heard nothing, “It seemed to me that you were speaking from a place of personal experience.” He sighed, his shoulders falling as he cradled the flowers in his hand. “And it is my regret that I did not seek you out sooner.”

Jesse’s body stiffened at the sentiment, “You sayin’ I was projectin’ onto Hanzo?”

“I am not,” the omnic replied definitively.

“Then what are you sayin’, Zenyatta?!”

Fed up, the cowboy slammed his fist down on the concrete between them. The concrete cracked underneath the force of his prosthetic and the tremor that followed alerted Bastion. Noticing the alarm in Bastion’s beeping, Jesse lowered his voice. He tried to school his expression feeling the tickle in the back of his throat as another cough left him. A bit of spittle came and he wiped it away with the back of his flesh hand, drawing back into his own personal space.

To Zenyatta’s credit, he didn’t recoil or move away from Jesse. Instead he set the flowers down on the fractured concrete then returned his hands to his lap. Jesse wanted to be angry with him and maybe in some ways he was. The ghosts that clung to his shoulders, whispered in his ears, and tried to drag him back into warm memories belonged to the solitary nights in his room. The voices that sounded like Hanzo and Angela were wrong.

_He wasn’t kind._

_He hadn’t grown._

He changed and withered but nothing more than that. There were so many things that he couldn’t make up for. So many people that he had to apologize to but they were nothing more than ghosts, whispers on a wind, that he couldn’t hold in his hands long enough.

“You spoke to the others, helping them to see the error of their ways and the justifications in tandem, and I believe it was you who played a pivotal role in attempting to ease Doctor Ziegler’s apprehension.”

Jesse’s brows knitted together as the scowl settled on his face. He kept his voice tight, trying to ignore the stinging behind his eyes. The way Zenyatta spoke to him was as if he did some sort of great justice. Something that would warrant such care and patience even though anyone could have spoken up at that time.

But no one said anything, ingrate, you did.

“Get to the point,” Jesse muttered in defeat.

Zenyatta reached out and touched his shoulder. “You have done all that you can,” he said. “Hanzo is here upon Genji’s request, and your gestures of kindness may make his adjustment easier.”

Jesse couldn’t summon the strength to brush the omnic’s hand away. It felt as if all his energy was sapped away. Instead, he met Zenyatta’s gaze with a lackluster chuckle. “But what happens from here on out is up t’ all of us.” He clicked his tongue and looked away, shaking his head, the tickle in the back of his throat returning.

“You do not have to bear the weight alone, McCree.”

He coughed into his closed fist then gave the omnic a grim smile, “We friends now?”

“I have always considered us as such,” Zenyatta replied thoughtfully. “Or at least two individuals who wish to do the right thing even if it costs us who we are.” A sigh followed and a breeze swept through the courtyard, nearly taking Jesse’s hat with it. “Though I hope you can find someone to confide in as much as you allow others to confide in you.”

The disappointment weighed heavily in the omnic’s tone and Jesse’s smile faded. Looking down, the flowers were gone and the voices vanished with them. He could no longer feel the pull. Bitter cold settling in his bones as he stared down at his open hands.”

He huffed, squeezing them shut. “Hey, what are those other meanings you were talkin’ about?”

* * *

After leaving the courtyard, Jesse wanted nothing more than to pick up a cigar and smoke his problems away. He dreamed of a nice flask full of whiskey or maybe he’d just drink it out of the bottle. Irritation in the back of his throat made the tickle return and he beat his fist against his chest to try and force it away. But eventually the coughing won out, and he stopped in a corridor, leaning away to cough into his fist.

“Jesse?”

Honestly, he thought about changing his name to Joel after all. The number of times he was being called in one day made him feel like a recruit again. Always needed because something was going wrong and someone needed to blow off some steam.

_Alright, wise up. It isn’t like that._

He looked up and noticed Genji walking down the hall. His faceplate and headgear were removed, green hair defying gravity as per usual and eyes bright, the soft smile on his face making him seem so much younger even with the scars. As he approached, Jesse gave a low whistle and looped his thumbs in his belt loops.

“Well ain’t you a sight for sore eyes,” He motioned behind him with an incline of his head. “Zenyatta is back thatta way if yer lookin’ for ‘im.”

A mixture of emotions flashed through Genji’s eyes before he reigned himself in.

“Thank you, but I was actually looking for you.”

“Somethin’ went wrong?”

“No,” Genji shook his head and chuckled. “It is just that you were not present when we arrived. I feared something happened.”

Aside from having fifty thousand heart to hearts in the span of a few hours, and a cough that wouldn’t go away because he couldn’t get a bit of peace for two seconds to grab a cup of water — he was fine.

“Then I heard that my brother visited you personally,” Genji’s tone wasn’t quite accusatory, far more curious and nosy. It made the corner of Jesse’s mouth curve up in a smirk. “I was under the impression that he was scouring the grounds, not seeking trouble.”

The cowboy held his hands up in surrender, “We just had a friendly chat. Though, seems like he’s got a long ways to go.”

Genji’s smile slowly faded as he looked away.

“I fear that we both do,” he muttered. “He seems to have warmed up to you rather quickly.”

Mentally, Jesse cursed his luck with words and rubbed the back of his neck. An apology sat on the tip of his tongue but if he knew Genji as he did, it was best to save words for when they were absolutely necessary. Deciding on the truth, Jesse shrugged his shoulders.

“I’d just say that we… get each other,” He clasped a hand on Genji’s shoulder, giving him a light shake. “Both got a common denominator, y’know?”

With curiosity and a tad bit of jealousy in his tone, Genji looked at him and squinted. “What’s that,” he asked suspiciously.

“An annoying little brother like you,” Jesse replied and wrapped his arm around the cyborg’s shoulders, using his other hand to ruffle his hair. Genji squawked indignantly and struggled in Jesse’s hold as he was locked in for a good old-fashioned noogie. Jesse grinned, it was good to see Genji in such good spirits. The cyborg could’ve easily broken out of the hold and put him flat on his ass but he was laughing and Jesse laughed along until coughs wracked him.

His hold on Genji loosened though instead of slipping away; Genji held onto him and worriedly patted at his back.

“Jesse, are you alright?”

The spittle was disgusting and he wiped it off just like before. There was nothing in it thankfully, just looked like a lot of mucus.

“Smoker’s cough.”

Genji sighed and rolled his eyes, rubbing Jesse’s back and giving him gentle pats until the cowboy regained his breathing. Once he was back on his feet, Genji stepped away and gave him a look with a quirked brow.

Weird, he looks a lot like Hanzo when he does that.

“Didn’t Angela warn you about that years ago?”

Jesse shrugged, “She warned me about plenty’a things, still did ‘em.”

Genji gave a long-suffering sigh and shook his head. The universal sign of disapproval that Jesse had been on the receiving end of very often. Honestly, it almost made him want to bring up the time that they rappelled down the side of the Watchpoint. Their misgivings in their youth translated into adulthood misadventures, and to be fair, Genji was far more reckless than he was.

So what if he took a little gamble with his health?

Life was a gamble and Jesse McCree was a betting man.

But Genji didn’t seem to want to back off and he squinted at him, “You should see her to get it checked out.” Then just as quickly, he turned and headed in the direction of the courtyard. Jesse glared at him, raising his voice so he could hear.

“Now you wait just a da—”

A silver box was waved around in the air by Genji, a mischievous grin on his face, “Your annoying little brother insists!” Laughter and a flash of green punctuated his departure.

Jesse’s eyes widened and he felt around his pockets. Sure enough, they were gone. “W— did you steal my cigars?!” Genji’s laugh grew higher and he swore it was almost like a cackle. “I take back what I said, you’re a lil’ shit, Genji!”

“You’ll get them back after you check in with Angela!”

“Genji!”

“Athena will notify me when you do, see ya!”

Jesse groaned and rubbed his fingers against his temples. Now he didn’t even have his cigars and he was almost certain that the asshole stole his lighter as well. Damned and without an option, he resigned himself to his fate and trudged towards the medbay grumbling all the while.

He barely made it to the door before the sound of Angela’s voice broke through his reverie.

“ — with all due respect, I do not trust you.”

His eyes widened and he stepped back, pressing his back to the wall, and quieting his breaths. The tone of her voice was clipped, professional, but with the undertone of mistrust and anger. Jesse’s shoulders drooped and his head fell forward as he cursed under his breath.

There was only one person in the Watchpoint that she could’ve possibly been talking to.

“Genji and Agent McCree spoke on your behalf, citing that you may not have had a choice due to your upbringing. However, I cannot begin to understand how someone could be driven to murder their family member — especially their younger brother.”

Jesse muttered another low curse and bit his lower lip. Leave it to Angela to get to the root of the problem. She never did beat around the bush and now wasn’t any exception. He squeezed his eyes shut and silently begged whatever god was listening to stop her before she got ahead of herself. Peeking over his right shoulder, he looked into the window and saw Hanzo’s back facing him. Angela was standing in front of him and far enough that he wasn’t sure if this could constitute an actual conversation.

Her hands were on her hips, she was wearing the same clothes from this morning, but the anger in her eyes and the twitch of her lips let Jesse know all he needed to. They had a long way to go. He looked at Hanzo and to his surprise, he didn’t cower nor did he turn his head away and become quiet as he’d done in front of Jesse.

“You are correct, Doctor Ziegler.”

Hanzo stood tall with his shoulders pulled back and his hands resting at his sides. Jesse could only imagine what his face looked like. The stories Genji told him about Hanzo were nothing compared to the man on the other side of the wall. He held himself as if he was royalty defined, didn’t quiver or shake, nor did he just storm out of the room.

Jesse had seen lesser men claw their way out of the med bay to avoid one of Angela’s lectures, hell he was one of them. But Hanzo stood his ground and Jesse felt a flutter in his chest along with a little smile forming.

“You cannot begin to understand the world that Genji and I were raised in,” Hanzo crossed his arms over his chest, his voice deep and firm in delivery. “You don’t know the things that we’ve seen or what could have happened if I’d chosen differently,” Jesse held a breath when he heard the pregnant pause. Exhaling as Hanzo continued on, “— and neither can I.”

While the boldness of Hanzo’s statement was cheered on quietly, it did very little to assuage Angela’s fears. Jesse had half a mind to enter the med bay and hopefully put an end to the battle that was being quietly waged. However, Zenyatta’s words stopped him in his tracks and the tickle in his throat reminded him that this wasn’t his problem.

He didn’t have to fight Hanzo’s battle.

“Regardless of how you may feel for me, it is my brother’s forgiveness that I seek, and your skills in medicine that I need.”

The corner of Jesse’s lips curved up into a smile. Hanzo could fight his own battles. Jesse sagged against the wall, staring up at the ceiling.

“As long as that is possible — hate me as you will, but I will not leave him again, and I will not run from you.”

_Guess you were right, Zen._

“Now, please excuse me. I have a previous engagement to attend to.”

Jesse closed his eyes and hid his smile behind his serape. He should’ve warned Angela about Hanzo’s sharp tongue but experience tended to be the best teacher. Figuring that he stayed outside long enough, Jesse stood up and turned to leave. But the doors to the medbay slid open before he had a chance to turn the corner.

“You were listening.”

Caught like a deer in headlights, the cowboy looked over his shoulder seeing Hanzo Shimada staring at him with a raised brow and folded arms.

_Yeah, they really are brothers._

The door to the medbay slid closed leaving the two in the hall with the sounds of the Watchpoint surrounding them. For a second, Jesse wondered whether he should take his chances with Angela or proceed to have his umpteenth talk of the day with Hanzo. Though peering into the window and seeing the doctor at her desk with her head in her hands, he felt a pang of sympathy and figured he might survive a few more hours without a cigar.

“Genji,” he grumbled.

Hanzo tilted his head to the side, “What?”

“Nothin’, nothin’.” Jesse waved his hand dismissively then tucked his thumbs in his belt loops. “Well, are we doin’ this?”

Looking at Hanzo, Jesse could’ve sworn that he caught the ghost of a smile on his lips before it vanished altogether. His eyes narrowed and he gave a firm nod of the head like a king telling his subject to go on. It was effortless almost as if he was accustomed to the motions.

Jesse felt the flutter in his chest and the tickle in the back of his throat. Stifling a cough, he turned away and headed down the corridor.

“Where are we going,” Hanzo asked once he fell in step beside Jesse.

“The roof,” Jesse said, feeling breathless when he spoke. “Think we both could use some fresh air.”

* * *

“Now this is more like it.”

Jesse stretched his arms up to the sky and basked in the warmth of the afternoon sun. Rolling his shoulders to alleviate stiffness, he took in a deep breath and went to sit on the edge with his legs hanging over the side. A slow smile inched its way onto his face as he took in the expanse of water before him. It seemed to stretch into oblivion, meeting the sky on the horizon, foamy sea waves crashing against the rocky cliffside.

Like a child, Jesse grinned excitedly and turned his head.

“Check out the view, Shi—”

His grin faltered as his eyes met Hanzo’s. Although, it looked as if the other man was looking through him rather than at him. Jesse tilted his head to the side and glanced over his shoulder at the horizon before staring at him once again.

“Hanzo—”

“I do not understand you,” Hanzo said cutting him off. “You heard what she said and what I said in return.”

Jesse frowned and pulled his legs from over the side. Dusting off his pants, he stood up and met the other man’s gaze. Hanzo stared at him long and hard, piercing brown eyes sweeping over Jesse as if trying to find any hint of weakness. In response, Jesse clenched his jaw and lifted his head in a silent challenge.

“So we’re doing this now?”

The exasperation in Hanzo’s eyes was clear but whether it was directed at Jesse or himself was unknown to the gunslinger.

“Why do you continue to speak to me as if I’ve done nothing wrong?

Jesse shrugged and folded his arms over his chest then tilting his head to the side. Every which way he looked at the archer made him seem tense. The distance kept between them might’ve been for Jesse’s safety. He doubted that Hanzo would hurt him unprovoked but he did think the archer was wary of him.

“Give me a good reason why I should hate you,” Jesse said.

“I murdered your best friend.”

The gunslinger rolled his eyes to the heavens. “I said a good reason.”

“How is that not a good reason?!”

Jesse just finds himself staring at Hanzo. His gaze is intense as he glares him down with the desperation of a man uncertain of where he stands. Somewhere beyond all the confusion was the man that laughed with him earlier. The one who shied away from him after remembering what he'd done.

He presses his lips together and sighs, taking a few steps forward, seeing how Hanzo tenses up. There is a sizeable distance between the two of them but Jesse was close enough that he could see the weariness in Hanzo's eyes. See the tremble in his closed fists and his jaw clench as he waited for an answer.

Taking in a deep breath, Jesse speaks calm and clear.

“Did you want to hurt him?”

The heat in Hanzo's gaze cools by a fraction. Jesse searches his eyes for something; seeing regret, loathing, confusion. He huffs and reaches up to take his hat off his head.

“It was my duty,” Hanzo spat out as if disgusted with the words rolling off his tongue.

Jesse shrugs. “And there it is," he said. “You answered your own question.”

Hanzo stares at him. His mouth opens and closes, unable to find the words, or perhaps too blinded by his own doubt to summon the right ones.

“Your duty," Jesse drawled. "It’s just like bein’ given orders. You obey and if you don’t, someone has to pay the price.”

He felt a dull throb in his chest as he looks in Hanzo's eyes. But he feels that the archer isn't looking back at him. His gaze is far off although he's right there, body wound tight like a bowstring. Jesse doesn't dare take a step forward for fear of breaking this silence between them.  
  
“Those elders of yours might’ve killed Genji themselves and from how Genji described them, there wouldn’t have been anything left for us to recover.”

Hanzo recovered from his slight trance and chuckled lowly. The sound was mirthless, full of contempt and anguish.

“Are you telling me that murdering my brother was giving him mercy?”

“In a way, yeah.”

Hanzo visibly recoiled at that and glared at Jesse something fierce. The cowboy stared back at him and even shifted from one foot to the other. He was tired. The number of talks he’d had in one day was more than he ever wanted in a lifetime. And to be fair, being the voice of reason wasn’t as amazing as some people made it out to be.

“Genji is alive because of what you did,” Jesse said.

“He is alive because of Doctor Ziegler’s procedures.”

And the fact that he had information on a crime syndicate based in Hanamura, Japan. Though Jesse figured that Hanzo only needed one bombshell at a time for right now. The other man was wound up so tight that he might’ve snapped if he knew the intricacies of Genji’s involvement with Overwatch. But that was Genji’s story to tell, Jesse reminded himself.

_You have done all that you can._

_You have grown._

Jesse clicked his tongue, “And you’re here because you love him.”

“I want to be forgiven by him,” Hanzo replied.

Jesse nods along with it and slowly makes his way to the nearest wall. He pressed his back against it and meets the archer’s eye, scrutinizing the expression on his face.

“You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who cares much for what other people think unless you like ‘em.”

Hanzo glared at him. “You don’t know me,” he growled.

“Nah I don’,” Jesse agreed. “But I know Genji loves you.”

He recalled the nights when Genji would stare at the picture of himself and Hanzo. Memories of when the younger Shimada's nightmares got bad and he'd call out for his brother in his sleep. Those moments stuck with him and left a younger Jesse wondering if Hanzo was the monster that everyone was led to believe.

But the man in front of him seemed lost. Unsure of himself and the world around him or at least where he stood in it. So Jesse decided to give him a little push in the right direction.

“You a fan of losing, Hanzo?”

Hanzo looked up at him and his eyes narrowed, “A _Shimada_ does not lose.”

Jesse smirked. “Then do yourself a favor and don’ play the game of who’s got the bloodier hands with me.” When Hanzo's eyes widened, Jesse looked away focusing his gaze on the never-ending horizon. “You’ll lose and I’d hate to ruin that pride of yours.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jesse saw Hanzo’s shoulders fall and felt a wave of relief. If Genji found out that they were having a little spat then he’d never hear the end of it. But his excitement was short lived as another cough wracked his body sending him into another fit. His gaze tore away from the horizon, mouth covered by his prosthetic as he hacked up mucus and spittle.

“Here.”

A small hourglass shaped object was held out in his line of sight. Glancing at it, Jesse cleared his throat and thumped his fist against his chest a few times.

“Whassat?”

He took it with a little nod of thanks, turning it over in his hands and hearing the pleasant sound of liquid sloshing around. Lightening up, Jesse opened the cork with the zeal of a man possessed.

“Haven’ had a damn thing to drink since I woke up.”

Jesse took a swig and his eyebrow raised as he looked down at it then to Hanzo. The other man stood there with a raised brow, his gaze flicking from the object in Jesse’s hands to Jesse’s face.

“Surely you weren’t expecting alcohol,” Hanzo said. “You were dehydrated. Only water, for now.”

Jesse grumbled. “You keep water in a… flask?”

“Gourd,” Hanzo corrected softly. “And no. I mostly keep sake but I needed water during our travels.”

“Resourceful and helpful,” Jesse teased. “A man after m’ own heart.”

Hanzo didn’t reply but he did move to lean against the wall with Jesse at his side. There was still space between them even after they slid down to the flooring, staring into the distance, with Jesse taking occasional swigs of water when the tickle in his throat returned. They sat in silence for a long while and Jesse felt at peace for the first time that day.

“I can practically hear you thinking, Hanzo.”

The archer glanced at him from the corner of his eye and Jesse tilted his head back to look at him evenly.

“We might not see eye to eye right now but… I’ve had a pretty long day.”

He held out the gourd and gave the best smile he could muster with how tired he felt, “You mind just sitting here, and having a drink with me?”

Hanzo looked from the gourd to Jesse’s face.

“Alright.”


	6. For Whom The Bells Toll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse knew that Hanzo's arrival would spark tension among the old vanguard, but he didn't know it would reopen old wounds or create new ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I am primarily a writer, I also care for each and every last one of my readers. If you are having a bad day or need a distraction, I am happy that you relied on my writing to help you through your time of need. If you are interested in expanding your writing and use mine as a reference, I am proud that you value me that much.
> 
> Please remember that your readership is appreciated and I appreciate you. Take care of yourself, love yourself, and always move forward.
> 
> Now, please enjoy the sixth chapter of You Are My Destiny.

Jesse wasn’t sure when he closed his eyes. However, he wished he never opened them. The feeling of peace and quiet must’ve lulled him into a dream. A waking nightmare, as he liked to call them. They only came when he wasn’t tired enough to sleep dreamlessly and was alert enough to know he was inside a dream. Looking down at his hands —

_His hands._

Both hands were held palm-up and he could see the lines, scars, knicks from years of living. When he curled his fingers into fists, he knocked his fists together and delighted in the small twinge of pain. A disbelieving chuckle left his lips but it was soundless. He couldn’t hear his own voice and his throat felt like it was clogged with molasses.

_Where am I?_

He lifted his head and looked around. The room looked just like the medbay, light streaming through the windows far more blinding than the fluorescents above. White sheets tucked up to his waist, drawing forward as he moved to sit up.

And a man in dark clothing, a stark contrast to the white walls and sheets, sat at the foot of his bed honed in on a datapad. Jesse’s chest tightened and he opened his mouth to call out to him. But the words stuck in this throat and he gritted his teeth, hand raising as he waved uselessly to get his attention.

When it didn’t seem like he would look up anytime soon, Jesse turned his attention to the rest of the room. A curtain was pulled separating his bed from the rest of the medbay. However, another man with hair the color of spun gold and blue eyes sat directly at his side, slowly lifting his head. His eyes widened once his gaze met Jesse’s and then he was calling out to the man in black. Jesse pressed his hand against his head, a buzzing sound drowning out his voice.

_What’s going on?_

He held out his hand to the blond who turned and smiled, reaching out for him in turn. Their fingers touched and Jesse choked back a sob, holding onto his hand tighter. It felt warm in his own with a comforting squeeze as he held tighter. 

_Jack._

_You're here._

_How can you be here?_

He wanted to ask him so many things. Warn him about what was to come. Keep him here so that the smile wouldn't fade from his eyes. But no words came out, and Jack looked away to have a conversation over his head, leaving Jesse in panicked awe. He raised his other hand to claw at his throat only to feel the brace around his neck. 

_Brace._

_Arms._

_Jack._

Questions were a flurry of words whizzing around Jesse's head like bullets flying through the air. He could see Jack's lips moving and tried to remember what he was saying. The deafening silence and inability to speak made his heart pound, eyes darting from one side of the room to the other.  A hand touched his shoulder and Jesse startled, nearly jumping out of the bed if not for the way it pushed down to keep him still.

 _Don't look up_.

This was just a dream. Desperately and almost pleadingly, Jesse tried to remind himself that this was a dream and he would wake up soon. Wake up to a world where Jack was buried in a grave amidst heroes and Gabriel's body was lost in the ashes of Zurich. The hand on his shoulder patted insistently, coaxing him to look up at the owner, sapping at his will to refuse taking the bait.

"Good to see you're awake, mijo."

_But I'm not._

_You're not real._

_**This** isn't real._

Gentle fingers brushed through his hair, a comforting touch he normally felt when half-asleep on the way back to base, fleeting and featherlight. He was never sure if it actually happened. Exhaustion reigning in made it impossible for him to discern what was real and what was not. But he heard whispers from Amari, her teasing voice like a haunting melody in his mind. She would be teasing  _him_ for how he treated Jesse when he wasn't _pretending_ to be the stern-faced commander. 

_As if he was his son._

This wasn't a nightmare, Jesse realized. It was a memory and one that he wished stayed buried deep within the reaches of his mind. Jack's hold on his hand felt constricting and the lack of a voice was suffocating him. He bit the inside of his cheek, feeling the stinging behind his eyes and hoping the pain would drown out the sadness. It worked for all of ten minutes until a hard flick to the side of his head made him look up. 

And that was his mistake.

Gabriel Reyes, with his scarred face and disapproving frown, looked down at him. Sunken brown eyes filled with relief, familial love, and care made Jesse's chest ache. The scowl etched on the commander's face dissipated as Jesse felt tears roll down his own. So many that he couldn't stop them and with his other hand, he reached out to clutch at Gabriel's hoodie, the fabric rough against his fingertips almost making him sob from the familiarity of it all. 

"Damn it all," Reyes grumbled under his breath and sat down beside Jesse, one arm slung over his shoulders and the other holding his hand. "Who rappels down the side of a cliffside for the hell of it?"

Jack must've said something because Gabriel laughed.  Jesse looked at them, the ache in his chest intensifying, his hold on their hands tightening.

_Why can I hear your voice but not his?_

"Don't won't worry, mijo. You're going to be okay," Reyes reassured, smiling at Jesse.

_Why can't I go back and stop you from abandoning him?_

The tears wouldn't stop falling and Jesse's chest felt like it was about to explode. He gripped Gabriel's hoodie and squeezed Jack's hand, trying to keep them as close as possible, afraid to let either of them go. Jack's hand touched his upper arm and Gabriel's laughter died down quickly once Jesse practically curled into a ball, clinging to them for dear life.

"Hey," his voice softened as he let go of Jesse's hand to wipe the tears away. "Don't cry, mijo. I'm here."

_You're not here._

Jesse wanted to laugh. The kind of laughter that left your throat hoarse and chest heaving. His grip on them was slipping but he could feel Gabriel's arms around him in a hug, Jack's fingers in his hair, the weight as they joined him on the bed. Warmth surrounded him and suffocated him dragging him deeper and deeper into denial. 

"I'm here."

The words seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once. His jaw hurt from how tightly his teeth were clenched together, fingers aching, heart thumping wildly. 

_I don't want to wake up._

_Please._

_Please don't take them again._

"Jesse."

The fluorescent lights above became brighter, almost blinding and he tore his gaze away, burying his face in the crook of Jack's neck. However, he was instead greeted with an empty space, his hand clutching a pocket of air. Trembling and gasping for breath, he swung his arm to wrap around Gabriel's shoulders and hug him tight. Jesse felt like a child holding onto his father for dear life. And maybe that's what he was. 

_No._

That's what they'd always been. If he was here, Jesse told himself. If he was here then Jesse wouldn't tease him. He wouldn't mess with him and call him boss for the fun of it. He'd say what he felt from the heart. He'd tell him how much he missed him. How much he loved him. How much of a father Gabriel was when his own failed to be.

"Jesse."

The voice didn't sound like Gabe's and Jesse did his best to block it out. He clutched Gabriel tighter to him and squeezed his eyes shut to block out the buzzing sound in his head. Burying his face against the older man's neck, he tried to shield him from what was coming. 

_No._

**_No._ **

"Jesse!"

The voice was shouting now and Jesse yelled in response, sound ripping free from his throat, permeating the silence and the buzzing that wouldn't let him have a moment of peace. 

"No!"

* * *

Jesse swallowed the cry, stiffling a sob. He blinked rapidly, droplets of moisture clinging to his eyelashes as the world came into focus. Gabriel wasn't there and although Jesse knew he wouldn't be; it didn't ease the weight in his chest. He raised a hand to rub his eyes, pausing at the sight of a gold ribbon caught in his grasp.

From the corner of his eye, he could see a head of glossy black hair leant against his shoulder with dark eyes watching him carefully. His blood ran cold and every muscle in his body moved all at once as he pushed himself away from the other person. Gold ribbon falling from his grasp was caught by the other man as Jesse tried to put as much distance between them as possible.

“Woah! U—”

Jesse raised his hand to defend himself in case the stranger was hostile. Mentally cursing himself for being so naive to leave Peacekeeper, he fumbled in his words as he tried to connect one dot to the other. Wiping away the tears obstructing his vision, alarms blared in his mind as he watched Hanzo slowly rise to his feet. Jesse was aware of the potential danger standing before him but he couldn't help but admire him. With his hair down, Hanzo looked every bit as regal but there was a softness to him as well. Especially when the wind picked up ruffling his hair as he tried to keep it out of his eyes. 

Jesse huffed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips until Hanzo's gaze flitted towards him. His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach as he scrambled for some sort of apology. “Shit," he cursed. "I’m real sorry about ya know.” When Hanzo didn't respond, Jesse quietly sent a prayer to the gods above and shifted into a low crouch. He was careful not to stand too fast in hopes of not spooking the archer or making himself appear as a threat. Hanzo watched him carefully, his eyes sweeping up and down Jesse's form sending tendrils of heat down the cowboy's spine.

“Must’ve dozed off," Jesse continued nervously. "Never did like getting wo—.”

“You were mumbling in your sleep,” Hanzo interrupted.

Jesse's heart skipped a beat and he tried to wrack his brain for what he might've said. He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck and shifted from one foot to the other.

“Was I now?” He mumbled, averting his gaze. “Bit of a sleeptalker, I reckon.”

“And a hugger,” Hanzo added. “You were holding onto me as if your life depended on it.”

The cowboy whipped his head around and stared at the archer with wide eyes. Mouth agape, he mouthed the words in disbelief then pressed his hand against the nearest wall to balance himself.

Embarrassment wasn't the word to describe what Jesse was feeling. He pressed the cool metal of his prosthetic hand to try and control the rising blush. Or at least that's what he told himself. In truth, he couldn't bear to look at Hanzo's face.

What would he think of him now?

“I — fuck," Jesse tried and failed to find the words to make up for his blunder. "I’m s—”

“Don’t apologize,” Hanzo snapped, tone brokering no room for argument.

Jesse's mouth snapped shut and he felt something twist in his chest. An uncomfortable pressure like someone stabbed him with a knife and twisted it in the wound. His hand fell away, eyes widening at the short distance between himself and the archer. Caught in Hanzo's gaze, Jesse's heart was beating double time and he wondered if the archer could hear it.

“You do not have to apologize, Jesse.”

His voice was much softer and the tension in Jesse's body gradually melted away as the archer grasped his forearm in a light hold. He could've tore his arm away from Hanzo and marched away. Laughed it off like it was just a joke and turned back to the sunset. But the sun had already set over the horizon leaving them underneath a starry night sky, and Jesse was too weary to laugh.

“I do not know who you were imagining I was but you must miss them dearly.”

Holding onto him like his life depended on it, Jesse repeated in his mind. An image of Gabriel Reyes and Jack Morrison flashed before his mind's eye and his throat tightened. The moisture on his eyelashes felt heavy and he refused to sniffle or cry in front of Hanzo. Whether it was for his own pride or not, he wasn't sure.

But the archer seemed sympathetic if his cool touch and gentle words were a sign. Hanzo chasing his gaze when he looked away from him and Jesse fearful of what he would say.

“In that, I can understand," Hanzo said.

Jesse's eyes widened and for a moment, it was as if the only thing he could see was Hanzo. This god-like person who belonged at the head of an army, thousands at his beck and call, stood before him like a simple man and offered a small smile. Trying and failing to find the words, Jesse's mouth opened and closed a few times before he settled on looking away to the churning seas below the Watchpoint.

Hanzo's touch lingered for a moment and when it left, Jesse felt a chill.

"It is late," the archer told him. "Genji sent a message that dinner should be ready soon."

Right, Genji. Overwatch. Their comrades.

Jesse wondered how long he was asleep for. They must have been on the roof for awhile and if Hanzo was with him; was he _holding_ him the whole time?

Looking back, he saw Hanzo's retreating back and took a step forward only hesitating for a split second.

“Hey Han?"

Jesse gulped and watched as the archer gave him a curious look over his shoulder.

“Yes?”

 _How long did you stay up here with me?_  
_Why did you stay with me, you could've left._  
_Thank you, I didn't want to be alone._

Hanzo gave him a sweeping glance and Jesse felt himself stand a little taller despite the ache in his chest. His hands tucked in his pockets were to keep them from the chill, or so he told himself, but Hanzo seemed to think otherwise. The archer's eyebrows knitted together and he pursed his lips, shaking his head.

“I believe it would be inappropriate to do so as you are now.”

Jesse bristled at that, his eyes narrowed and jaw clenching.

“Please do not misunderstand," Hanzo interjected, looking at him apologetically. "I do not mean to imply you are weak.”

The heat in Jesse's glare diminished and his face softened. Hanzo didn't glare at him or raise his head. Instead, his eyes bored into Jesse as if he could see every bit of him without trying. Once he had his fill, he looked away and turned his back.

“However," he said, walking on. "You are emotionally compromised.”

Jesse's eyebrow rose and he scoffed. “It was just a silly dream,” he bit back. “You don’ know what goes on in m’ head, Hanzo.”

Admittedly, there was more force behind his words than necessary. A twinge of regret blossoming in his heart once the archer came to a halt.

“You are correct," Hanzo replied, and Jesse never felt this bad for being right. He flinched, recoiling as the archer glanced at him from over his shoulder. But the look in his eyes wasn't of cold indifference or hatred but understanding and sadness.

"But as someone who has been on the receiving end of those silly dreams, I know they are nothing to underestimate.”

All of the fight left in Jesse seemed to die as he watched Hanzo open the door and disappear, his final statement echoing through Jesse's mind.

“Damn it.”

Jesse sagged to the ground with a broken fit of laughter. He closed his eyes and covered his face with his hat, sniffing and choking back gut-wrenching sobs. He opened his hands in front of him, vision growing blurry as he imagined his real hand instead of the prosthetic. Gabriel and Jack holding onto him, smiling down at him, telling him that they were there.

He'd grown accustomed to crying alone and if someone heard the loud broken cry amidst howling winds, they didn't come to his aid.

* * *

Retreating to his room like a scolded child was the last thing he wanted to do. His mind told him that he should've been present for Hanzo's first dinner with the rest of the team. See how everyone was reacting to one another so he'd know whether to step in or not.

But his heart told him that he didn't have to fight for Hanzo nor justify anyone else. And a voice that suspiciously sounded like the archer told him that he should look after himself. With hunched shoulders and a dark countenance, Jesse vanished into his room and stayed there in full-dress splayed out on his bed.

He wasn't sure how long he'd spent staring at the roof, counting knicks and cracks, or letting his mind wander into nothingness. In spite of this, Athena's voice chimed through the quiet space.

“ **Agent McCree, Agent Winston requests your presence in the Control Room for a debriefing on future recruits and training.** ”

“Tell ‘em I’m dealin’ with somethin’ right now, Athena.”

It may have been his imagination but she sounded sympathetic. Her voice was much quieter than if he was in the corridors. And there was a hesitance as she lingered on his callsign as if wondering whether or not to tell him.

Jesse made a mental note to tell Winston he was doing great with Athena's emotional programming.

“ **Very well, are you alright?** ”

He hesitated and rolled the words around in his mind. Physically, he felt alright aside from a cough that wracked his chest from time to time. Emotionally, he could have been better. Though if he told her that he was in emotional distress then she'd surely call Angela to check on him.

And he honestly didn't want to deal with that trainwreck right now.

“Just tired.”

“ **Would you like me to hide your location?**

His lips quirked up into a weary smile and although he knew Athena couldn't see him directly, it was appreciated that she could just tell.

“That’d be nice, thanks.”

“ **You are very welcome, Agent McCree. I hope your mood improves with time.** ”

Left to the silence of his quarters, Jesse's thoughts were given free reign. He covered his face with his arms and thought back to the day's endeavors grimly. There were more talks than he was accustomed to having, a little pow-wow with Genji that made him feel monumentally better until that dream.

That damn dream that he still couldn't shake.

“Was holdin’ on to him for dear life, huh.”

He remembered holding on to Gabriel. Burying his face in the man's shoulder and trying to keep him from fading. Had he done the same thing to Hanzo?

Remembering the gold ribbon in his hand, Jesse cursed and slapped his flesh hand against his forehead.

“How embarrassin’. The man just got here and already saw that side of me.”

Jesse rubbed the heel of his hand against his nose to assuage a growing headache. His pinky brushed against his eyes and if possible, his grimace darkened at the moisture on his fingertips.

“Grew," he said mockingly. "What a joke..”

Hanzo's face appeared in his mind and Jesse bit the inside of his cheek to stifle another cough. His throat felt like it was going raw from the amount of coughing he was doing. Distracting himself with thoughts of the archer, his chest felt heavier.

Dark hair that was choppy at the ends as if he cut it with a knife, inquiring eyes that could be as inviting as they could be cold. Muscle in all the right places, a tattoo that was as impressive as it was imposing. And a handsome smile that made him look -

Jesse stopped his train of thought there and banished the thoughts. But his mind wandered back to Hanzo again. Remembering when the other man sat on the edge of his bed, holding up his serape, asking about what it was. How he joked with him over the communicators. How easy it was to banter with him.

The guilt and sadness that crept in his eyes, sapping them of warmth when he remembered what he'd done.

"Stop," Jesse demanded and slammed his fist against the mattress. "I’m just a tired old man, no doubt about that.”

“Reyes, Amari, Morrison…”

It hurt to even say their names. Their forms silhouetted by a bright light in his memories. Close enough for him to see them but far enough that he couldn't touch them. And he chided himself, remembering that he was a thirty-seven year old man with a bounty on his head.

“Am I becomin’ just like you three?”

But he missed them so much. So much that it felt like his heart was being crushed by the mere thought of them.

“Pillar ‘f strength for them?”

He snorted and held his hands over his face, shaking slightly.

“Feel like a kid just playing hero,” he whispered. “Losin’ my head.”

How could he just cry like that in front of Hanzo?

He was supposed to help him, not the other way around, right?

But with just a few words, a floodgate opened that he thought he locked a long time ago. He had to play peacemaker between them, remind them of what tore their family apart in the first place.

“If you guys were here, Ange wouldn’ have gone off like that.”

Or maybe she would have.

“But maybe you would’ve, eh pa?”

He could see Gabriel glaring Hanzo down for what he did to Genji. He might not have blown up on him but there would be a few harsh words.

Would Jesse have defended him in the face of Gabriel Reyes?

What would he say if he ever had a chance to see Gabriel Reyes again?

“I miss you,” he whispered to the looming shadows. “Even Morrison’s ‘salt is a spice’ rectangle ass.”

Jesse chuckled hoarsely at his own joke and rubbed his eyes when the stinging returned.

“Nah, I’m not doin’ this,” he reminded himself. “Told m’self I’d leave it in the past.”

When he pulled his hands away from his eyes, he stifled a sob and pulled himself up into a sitting position. His flesh hand touched the fingertips of his prosthetic and he held both to his mouth.

“Leave ya’ll..”

His eyes squeezed shut and he tried to will away the warm light, their smiling faces, even the past itself.

Jesse chuckled bitterly, “Where do I get off lecturin’ them when I can’ even live up to my —”

“ **Agent McCree, you have a visitor outside of your quarters.** ”

Jesse groaned and rubbed his hands along his face. 

“Who is it?”

“ **Agent Shimada, shall I open the door?** ”

His head shot up and he stared pointedly at the door, finding it with his eyes even in the dark. Mouth going dry and embarrassment creeping in, Jesse shook his head.

“Just tell him ’m sleepin’.”

“ **Very well.** ”

It was a few minutes of Jesse trying to calm his hammering heart and quell a few coughs that Athena spoke again.

**“Agent Shimada left something outside your quarters, Agent McCree.”**

Curiosity piqued, Jesse stood up and cautiously walked over to the door. He made sure that no one was outside of it and let it swoop open. At his feet was a tray of food.

“Guess it was Lena’s turn to cook,” he mumbled, kneeling to pick it up and disappearing into his room.

The lights turned on as he walked over to his bed and sat the tray down. Beef Wellington with a side of veggies and the potatoes were more than likely Reinhardt's idea to cheer him up. Jesse huffed and picked up his fork only to pause before he dug in.

“He went and braved gettin’ the stink eye from Angie just to get me food?”

No one responded. Not even Athena. But he felt the weight of the gesture between every chew.

“Damn it, Hanzo.”

Jesse grumbled and climbed off the bed, shuffling through his pants pockets for his communicator. There were several messages from other members inquiring where he was or if he wanted to hang out later. And although he felt guilty for not responding to them right away, there was a Shimada he had to take care of first.

He typed out a few messages but none of them seemed right. Getting angry wasn't justifiable, Hanzo was just being nice.

But he wasn't someone to be pitied either. Though the tiny voice in his head that sounded like Amari told him it wasn't pitying.

Mutual kindness?

An eye for an eye?

Jesse groaned and typed the first thing that came to mind.

 **[20:05] MCCREE |** Thanks for the food.

He thought that would be the end of it. A thank you and nothing else would happen. Maybe the archer would just ignore him after what he'd seen today. Content with that thought, despite the strange twisting in his chest, Jesse resigned himself to drinking the bottle of water accompanying his food. By the time he finished, a ding echoed from his communicator and he looked at it. 

 **[20:08] SHIMADA |** I believe the AI claimed you were sleeping. If so, you are a very good sleep writer.

Jesse snorted and rolled his eyes, trying to fight his growing smile. Although he tried to mentally prepare himself for Hanzo ignoring him, it was nice to know the opposite.

 **[20:10] MCCREE |** Can’t tell if you’re being serious or a jokester.

 **[20:12] SHIMADA |** Wouldn’t you like to know?

Jesse's eyes widened and he almost typed back but was interrupted by a deep throat-scratching cough. Shaking his head, he sat down and Athena shut the lights off, the screen of his communicator silhouetting him in a blue light. 

 **[20:13] SHIMADA |** Will have to cut this conversation short. Genji is watching.

Jesse felt a pang of disappointment.

_Wait, disappointment?_

He shook it off and typed out another message.

 **[20:15] MCCREE |** Tell that little shit to give me back my cigars.

 **[20:18] SHIMADA |** Why does he have your cigars?

 **[20:20] MCCREE** | Said I have to talk to Ange about my cough before he gives them back.

Jesse raised a brow.

That was short.

Maybe he was reprimanding Genji on taking other peoples' property or judging Jesse on his habit.

Somehow, the latter made him far more nervous than the former.

 **[20:21] SHIMADA |** I see.

 **[20:22] SHIMADA |** Then I am in agreement with him.

 **[20:23] MCCREE |** Pardon me?

 **[20:26] SHIMADA |** Your health is very important to me and this team. Seek assistance from Doctor Ziegler and your cigars will be returned.

 Jesse covered his face with his hands and gave a long-suffering sigh. All he wanted was his cigars, a bit of alone time, and maybe one thousand years worth of sleep. But for some reason, he couldn't stop smiling and flicked through the messages between him and Hanzo. 

_Your health is very important to me and this team._

“Athena, send a message to Angela.”

“ **What would you like it to entail, Agent McCree?** ”

_Me and this team._

“I need to see her about a medical issue, nothing too serious.”

_Me and this team._

“ **Do you have a set time that you’d like to go?** ”

_Me and this team._

“When everyone else is sleeping preferably. I know she’s gonna chew my head off.”

_Me and this team._

“ **I understand. I will send it to her immediately.** ”

“Thanks.”

_Hanzo._

* * *

In hindsight, coming to the medbay when he was trying to recover from an episode was not the smartest idea. He neglected to grab his serape or his hat and abandoned his cowboy boots for a pair of trainers that went neglected in the back of his closet. Walking soundlessly through the halls, he hoped that none would cross his path and see the ghost of cowboy's past. Thankfully Athena sent the confirmation of his presence to Angela and he steppeed through the doorway without much fanfare. Hands tucked in his pockets, eyes listlessly staring ahead as he watched the blond flit about the medbay.

“I never thought I would see the day where Jesse McCree would make an appointment with m—”

Her voice was light and teasing, matching the tired smile as she turned to face him. Maybe it was the look on his face or the change in his attire but the smile fell as she looked him over, stepping forward cautiously.

“Jesse?”

He swallowed a lump in his throat and shook his head, rubbing a hand through his hair and putting on his best charming grin. Alas, it was hard to fool a trained medic and Angela raised a brow at his attempt. Jesse sighed, the smile falling.

“Did you…" He winced at the hoarse sound of his own voice. "Go t’ the meeting with Winston?”

She flinched as he spoke and walked closer to him, keeping a distance when he raised his hand.

“I… no. No, I didn’t go. He wanted to postpone it with.. all that has transpired lately.”

He could feel her eyes on him as he turned away, covering his mouth with his prosthetic elbow.

“Yeah," Jesse nodded, taking a deep breath and stifling another cough, clearing his throat afterwards. "Good call on his part.”

Angela frowned and reached out to touch his forearm, making him turn his head to look at her.

“Jesse, what’s wrong?”

Her eyes were soft and pleading, touch light yet insistent. Jesse scowled. The last thing he wanted was to make her worry and yet that's what he managed to do anyway.

 _I had a nightmare about our family and made an ass of myself in front of a new recruit._  
_A new recruit that has turned the Watchpoint on its head and doesn't deserve half the flack he gets._  
_I'm tired and frightened and it tends to build up when I'm alone and vulnerable._

Telling her the truth was completely out of the question and instead, he allowed the next cough to come. He cleared his throat and thumped his fist a few times against his chest a few times for good measure. 

“Got a cough," he admitted. "Might’ve been the one you’ve been warnin’ me about.”

Angela's pleading look turned into a withering one, her finger jabbing Jesse in the chest. “Not that,” she scolded. “Is there something bothering you _emotionally_ , Jesse.

He waved her hand away from his chest, trying to laugh but the lack of hydration made it choppy. Jesse grumbled and massaged his throat, shaking his head as she looked at him pointedly.

“I’m a big boy, I’ll be fine.”

“You know I will still worry.”

“Yeah," He rolled his eyes. "You’re stubborn like that.”

She pointed directly towards one of the beds and Jesse sighed. Knowing the drill, he stripped out of his shirt and allowed her to give him an x-ray along with a variety of other tests. By the time she was finished, he practically became one with the bed and thought about spending the night in the med bay. Though when he opened his eyes to see the fluorescent lights, the dream came back full force and he was surged forward, startled by the association.

Angela was halfway across the room examining his chest x-rays, barely noticing his blunder to his relief. 

“It seems as though you are correct," she said. "Through long-term exposure to smoke, your body hasn’t had time to diminish the effects of all the toxins you’ve been polluting it with. I will have to rescind my previous statement on your _one lecture-free cigarette_ for your health.”

Jesse pulled his arms through the sleeves of his shirt, whining. “Aw c’mon Ange.”

She shot him a stern glare, shaking her head in rebuttal. "I know what I promised but as your physician, I cannot allow you to do it." Her finger pointed to the picture of his lungs and he resisted the urge to flinch.

“Your lungs are dying because of how you treat your body,” Angela explained, setting down her clipboard and going to log in her findings.

Jesse grumbled for a while but curiosity got the better of him. “What’ll happen if I keep goin’?”

“Wheezing, coughing up blood, weight loss, the list goes on,” Angela replied without looking at him. “Though I believe in your case, loss of mission and training privileges would be a good motivator.”

“You sure you an angel?”

“What do you think," She smirked over her shoulder then turned back to the computer. “There was something else in your scans but it was too small to come up. I’ll have to analyze it again.”

The rest of her words were background noise as he surveyed the room. It looked much older than the one in his dream and worn from years of disuse. When his eyes landed on the doorway, he half-expected or hoped that any of them would walk through. They'd apologize for being gone and greet him with open arms. He'd wake up in the past and they would be there waiting for him patiently.

His gaze drifted to the nearby desk, a vase full of flowers sitting in it, their petals a soft eggshell white. Jesse clenched his jaw and reflexively curled his fingers into fists, staring intently at them.

“Jesse?”

Snapping back to reality, he glanced out the corner of his eye and saw Angela staring at him worriedly. 

“Ah," he croaked, coughing into his elbow. "You uh… got a secret admirer?”

She followed his gaze to the flowers and her cheeks flushed, a soft smile making its way to her lips, her eyes crinkling at the corners. 

“Fareeha got them for me,” she admitted and went to the nearest cooler to give him a water bottle, motioning for him to drink. "I was having a tough day and she went out with Lena after dinner."

He unscrewed the cap and took a few swigs, staring at them for awhile, feeling an odd sense of familiarity. 

“Do you like them?”

Jesse lowered the water bottle and grumbled, “Flowers ain’t really m’ thing.”

Her back was turned to him as he got up and left. Footsteps soft, presence practically unknown as she started talking again.

“And neither is taking care of your body but you are becoming open to…”

He was gone before she could say the last word.

* * *

To say that he was restless after that would've been an understatement. It was easier to walk around undetected without his spurs but the silence was killing him. The sight of those flowers spurred something within him but he couldn't remember it for the life of him. Rubbing the heel of his hand against his forehead to stave off an oncoming headache, Jesse backtracked to his room to grab the empty dishes and bring them to the kitchen. A bit of late night scrubbing might do him some good, the monotony of a task drowning out any encroaching thoughts and theories that would keep him awake.

Yet as he stepped foot in the kitchen, there was someone seated holding a steaming cup in their hands. Their gaze was far away but as the doors slid shut behind Jesse, they looked in his direction. 

“You’re up late,” Jesse drawled.

Hanzo blinked at him. “As are you,” he replied. "The AI informed Genji of your appointment with Doctor Ziegler.”

There was a softness to Hanzo's demeanor, the regality all but gone. His hair was down, a starch white Overwatch t-shirt a size too small trying to fit his frame, and dark blue sweatpants tucked into his prosthetics. Jesse couldn't help but think that he looked more like a man than a god like this. But the same perfect teeth that showed when he smiled could rip the cowboy's head off in an instant. Remaining mindful of that, he instinctively raised his hand to tip his hat only to remember that he left it in his room.

Hanzo raised his eyebrow at the gesture, an amused glint to his eye as he took a long sip of his tea. Sufficiently embarrassed, Jesse rolled his eyes and went about the task of washing out his dishes. The archer said nothing even though they were a few strides away with only the stove, a steaming kettle, and their own distractions keeping them apart.

_Why am I thinkin' like I want to get close to him?_

"She prefers to be called Athena," Jesse explained off-handedly. "Wouldn't want anyone just calling you 'the archer' all the time, right?"

Hanzo was quiet for a long time, then he grunted dismissively and Jesse laughed. His throat ached from the vibrations and he raised a soapy hand to rub at it. 

“Lil’ shit pokin’ around here to give me back m’ cigars?”

He felt Hanzo's gaze on him but didn't turn his head to meet his eyes. This was the second time today that he appeared vulnerable in front of him, and it was grating to say the least. 

“I’m afraid you will have to settle for me,” Hanzo replied without sounding sorry in the slightest.

 _I wouldn' mind having you around_.

The words were caught in Jesse's throat but they felt warm in his chest. For a second, with all of the banter and remarks, he forgot what led him here. Sneaking a glance at Hanzo, he saw the archer staring into his cup as if it held all the answers in the universe. His brow was furrowed making a crease in his forehead and the corner of Jesse's mouth quirked up in a smile.

_Cute._

Hanzo sighed. “My apologies for withholding them from you, in truth, this endeavor reminded me of our youth. For a moment, I forgot.”

Jesse felt a pang of sympathy. While he had wanted his cigarettes more than anything at the moment, if it brought them closer he could've gone without them. Eyes softening, he dried his hands on a nearby towel after putting the dishes on the drying rack.

“Well, I’m glad that teasin’ me made you feel better,” Jesse teased, hiding his smile.

“That is not what I—,” Hanzo blurted out, pausing shortly after and grumbling. “You are joking.”

Jesse's shoulders shook as he laughed, low and hoarse, but full of joy. “Hit the nail right on the head, darlin’.” 

He gestured towards the kettle with a tilt of his head and Hanzo nodded in return. Picking through the cuppboards for a clean mug, Jesse poured some of the kettle's contents into it. He raised it and took a sip, feeling the scalding liquid burn his tongue with a bitter taste. Making a show of his distaste for it, he stuck his tongue out and Hanzo chuckled.

"There is honey in the cabinet over there," Hanzo informed him, raising his own cup to hide his smile.

Jesse stuck his tongue out at him and went to find the honey. Though with his back turned, he hoped the other man couldn't see the smile on his face. Or the glance he took over his shoulder when he thought Hanzo wasn't looking.

This was nice. No arguments, no fighting, just living in the moment.

"Is that your favorite nickname?"

Jesse tilted his head as he poured honey into his tea and stirred it.

"What is?"

Hanzo looked at him. "Darlin'," he repeated.

Jesse's heart skipped a beat and he suddenly became far more interested in his tea than the man in front of him. "It's uh," he cleared his throat and tried to fight down the heat in his face. "The one that rolls off the tongue when I think of ya."

But just as quickly as the words came out, he cursed and kicked himself mentally.

"What?" Hanzo said, turning and leaning against the countertop to get a better look at Jesse's face. "Explain."

_It would be much easier to explain if you didn' look so damn smug._

"I mean... you just got that.. aura or whatever.. that a certain nickname just fits."

Every word that came out seemed to be harder than the last. Jesse tried to look anywhere but at the dark eyes staring at him so intently. As if Hanzo was hanging off his every word and somehow that made his chest swell with  _something_. The urge to cough was diluted by the tea and he continued to take large gulps of it when his mouth felt dry and the words got harder to say. 

"Eloquent as ever, Jesse McCree."

"Don' get sassy with me, Hanzo Shimada."

Hanzo smirked and Jesse's stomach flipped. He looked good like that. Younger, carefree, and he wondered how many people got to see him smile so earnestly like this. Mesmerized, Jesse watched as he moved from the countertop to wash out his mug and put it on the drying rack.

"I shall do as I please," Hanzo said proudly. "And I wish to go to bed, you may have the rest."

Jesse looked at the kettle and lifted it, feeling the remaining amount of tea inside would fill up at least two more cup fulls. By the time he looked up to thank Hanzo, the other man was already have way out the door.

"Got your quarters already?"

“Yes," Hanzo paused in the doorway and looked over his shoulder with a thin smile. "I was assigned the room next to yours.”

With that he was gone and the swelling in Jesse's chest had yet to die down. He pressed his hand against his heart and felt it hammering against his chest. Part of him wondered as he poured another cup of green tea and mixed in the honey.

_Could he feel it too?_

 

* * *

“ **Agent McCree, I must inform you that it is currently 0300. Continued use of the shooting range may impact your performance due to a lack of proper sleep.** ”

The last gunshot ricocheted off the side of a downed boys’ head and lodged itself into a nearby practice dummy. Lowering Peacekeeper, Jesse rubbed his eyes and yawned loudly. His shoulders felt heavy and he was practically dead on his feet. Flicking the gun into safety, he holstered it and stumbled backwards, making his way to the door.

Athena’s clean up drones helped pick up their fallen comrades while Jesse tried to keep himself from falling over.

“Is that a polite way of saying ‘take your ass to bed, McCree’?”

“ **Yes.** ”

He had to give her points for honesty. Although, the amount of sass he was subjected to throughout the day was hilarious to his sleep-addled mind. His worries and fears melting away after three cups of the green tea, feeling as if he could breathe again.

Though the nightmare clung to the reaches of his mind and his thoughts wandered to Hanzo. He should have properly apologized when he the chance. But now, they might b—

Jesse coughed into his fist, hacking up mucus and spitting into the nearest receptacle.

**“Agent McCree, are you alright? Should I contact Doctor Ziegler?”**

Jesse waved his hand dismissively after looking around for Athena’s camera. “Nah, nah, I’m fine,” he reassured her. “Just gotta drink somethin’ and breathe y’know..”

Once he had his breathing under control, Jesse gave a two finger salute to the AI with his best smile. “ ‘m gonna clear out, thanks for this Athena.”

The door slid open once he got to it but when he glanced down there was a thermos sitting in front of him.

“ **It was my pleasure. Take care, Agent McCree.** ”

“What th—”

Jesse poked his head out and glanced down both sides of the corridor. No one was there.

“Who…”

He scratched his head, grumbling as he leaned down to pick it up.

“Damn ninjas, creepin’ around here like that.”

It was warm in his hand and had the Overwatch symbol emblazoned on the front. Unscrewing the top, he took a sniff and was met by the smell of green tea.

“Hey Athena, by any chance, can you tell me who came past here?”

“ **I am afraid that I was forbidden to share that information, Agent McCree.** ”

Jesse chuckled and clicked his tongue. “ ‘f course, alright thanks.”

He trailed off to his quarters and stopped at the door to give Hanzo’s a lingering look. The thermos in his hand was a pleasant and after he took a sip of the liquid, his eyes widened

_Honey?_

“Athena, can you look up some of the herbal remedies for smoker’s cough?”

“ **Certainly, Agent McCree.** ”

A few minutes passed and Jesse was steadily making his way through the tea.

“ **They have been transcripted for your holopad.** ”

Jesse brought up his holopad and scrolled through the list of treatments until he saw one that drove home.

“Green tea with honey…”

He looked at the thermos then the wall separating him from Hanzo. Jesse downed the rest of the contents then set the container on his side table. Shutting off the lights, his communicator was the only thing on when he texted.

 **[03:05] MCCREE |** Thank you.

He didn’t wait to read a response, stripping out of his clothes and crawling under the blankets after undoing the ports on his arm. Jesse set it aside then curled up and slowly drifted into sleep. Dreams of dark eyes, hair, and a smile for the ages.

In the midst of his dream, Jesse coughed harshly into his hand and rolled over.

**Author's Note:**

> The only way to sum this up is that I felt like taking a stab at writing a Hanahaki Disease fic in my own way.
> 
> It'll update daily if I'm up to it, but I'm hoping to finish this in twenty chapters or less.
> 
> If you like what I do and want to support me, why not buy me a [coffee](https://ko-fi.com/skelebones)?
> 
> If you guys want to talk to me, share your headcanons about what's going to happen next, or send me a few comments, or **know the status of my fics** or something (because you don't want to over Ao3) send it to my tumblr **@officialbonesblog** . Anons are welcome, please abide by the golden rule.
> 
> Do unto others as you wish for them to do to you.
> 
> Send kudos and comments, keep this ol' writer going.


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